Just as I’m about to ask another question, Julia shouts down the stairs, “Cecelia, get your ass up here.”
Cecelia doesn’t say another thing, just stands up, puts out the joint, and walks away without a backward glance.
ChapterEleven
Harlow
Iwait a few moments to make sure none of them are returning. When no one does, I start to wriggle my body.
“Holy fuck!” Jacinta exclaims, starting to do the same thing. “Your family is off-the-rails crazy.” I stop and stare at her.
“Are you freaking kidding me? Your uncle killed your cousin!” I point out, and I watch as she stops struggling and thinks about it.
“Apparently, he isn't our real uncle, so you still lose,” she shoots back, and I stick my tongue out at her. She giggles a little hysterically while I go back to what I was trying to do.
“What are you doing, Harlow?” Jaxon asks, and I swing my head to look at him. It was so hard to watch Raquel drape herself all over him.
“Shut up, you asshole. You don’t get to speak to her,” Jacinta whisper-yells, furious with her brother. She must not have heard Jaxon apologize to me earlier.
“It’s okay, Jacinta. He was just pretending.” She blinks and shakes her head.
“Of course he was. Sorry, my head hurts from being hit twice.”
Shit, I hope she hasn't got a concussion. “Have you got any blurry vision or dizziness?” I ask her, and she slowly shakes her head, though the wince accompanying the movement isn’t very convincing.
“No, it’s just pounding.” I breathe a small sigh of relief. At least that’s one less thing to worry about. I turn back to Jaxon, hating how he looks to be in pain.
“I don't want you pretending. I don't want her all over you. I don't think it’s going to help us anyway. If he’s willing to kill off his own son, then nothing Raquel wants is going to keep him from doing what he wants. It sounds like they are going to get what they want from you and be done with all of us,” I quietly tell him. His eyes cloud with something—Sadness? Fear? I’m not sure what it is, but I know it’s not optimism.
“I think you’re right, though I’m not sure how they think they can get an heir from me without my cooperation,” he mumbles, sounding disgusted, and Jacinta snorts.
“Please, brother, all they have to do is drug you and hold Harlow or me at gunpoint. After that, you would do anything for them,” Jacinta says matter of factly, and I start to struggle again. I can't let that happen because she’s right.
“When Cecelia hit me and the chair fell, something broke,” I say, making a point to speak as quietly as possible.
“In your arm?” Jaxon asks, trying to see what I’m doing.
“No, in the chair,” I reply, and sure enough, I’ve wiggled enough that I can detach the back of the chair from the seat. Now that I’m no longer attached, I try to stand up, and when I do, the back piece falls out. I can pull my arms out of the ropes and unwind them from my body.
“Yes!” Jacinta cheers in a whisper. “God, I could just kiss you.”
I scrunch up my nose. “No thanks, I'm happy kissing your brother.”
“Good call,” the siblings say in unison.
“Hurry, untie Jazzy,” Jaxon urges as I bend down and pull the tape off my legs.
Scrambling out of the bindings, I move over to Jacinta and untie her. “Check if there’s any way we can open the window,” I tell her as I go to Jaxon. Unlike us, he’s shackled with metal cuffs, which won’t make this easy. I pull at them, trying to loosen them, but there’s no fucking way I’m getting them open.
“God, why did they tie you up like this?” I ask him, frustrated with not having any success.
“I woke up before both of you and put up a fight. That's when Peter did this to me.“ He points a finger at his face. “I think I may have a cracked rib or two as well.” He grimaces as he shifts like he’s trying to lessen the pain. I pause for a moment and lean in, placing a kiss on his lips.
“I love you. I'm so sorry about all of this.”
“It’s as much my fault as it is yours,” he argues as I keep trying to pull his shackles. When that doesn't work, I study his chair, looking to see if I can break it in any way, like what happened to mine.
“It’s neither of your fault. That woman is bat-shit crazy,” Jacinta whispers. There’s another minute or two of silence, the two of us struggling with our respective missions, but then Jacinta shouts, the sound all too loud and full of joy. I cringe and look at the steps, my heart racing with panic, but no one comes to investigate.
