“If you have a trigger to some bomb on you, throw it to the side, now,” Cass barked.
Winston smiled. “No.”
“Right. Because there is no trigger. There is no bomb. You are bluffing.”
“You have about two minutes. I started the bomb the minute I watched the van pull into the warehouse. The driver wasn’t Raz, I saw his face. I knew you’d come to the party at that moment, so I set the timer. I knew the way things would end even before Bayne opened the van doors.”
Bullshit. Wasn’t it?
Winston laughed as he ignored the blood that soaked his jeans. “How many lives can you save in two minutes? Or do you even give a shit about that? Do you care about saving anyone but yourself?” A smug grin. “Maybe you don’t even care about saving her. Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe she’s not a weakness because you just don’t care about her at all. Maybe she means nothing to you.”
The door flew open behind him—he heard the hinges screech. “Cass!” Agnes called.
He held his gun in position.
Winston maintained his grip on his weapon. “Am I bluffing?” Winston asked him.
Dammit. “Agnes, we have to get everyone out of that warehouse, now.”
“What? Why?”
“Because there’s a bomb inside.”
Winston began to laugh.
Really? The dumb sonofabitch was gonna laugh?
“My brothers are in there!” she cried.
More laughter from Winston. Even as blood pooled beneath his right leg. Then his gaze darted toward Agnes. Cass knew exactly what the bastard was planning. Winston’s gun wavered, shifting position slightly?—
The boom blasted through the growing darkness. The bullet also blasted a hole right in Winston’s upper arm. Winston’s gun fell from his nerveless fingers.
“Bas—” Winston began.
Cass fired another shot at him. This time, his left leg.
Winston howled.
Then Cass shot Winston’s left arm. Just so things would match up. And so your ass will not be able to fight back. Bullets in both arms and both legs.
“You’re not gonna be able to run away,” Cass told him. “You’re gonna die right here with everyone else. Was that in your plans, you dick?”
Horror filled Winston’s eyes. Horror and what could very well have been fear.
“You always did have one hell of a survival instinct, Uncle Winston.” Cass was betting on that survival instinct to kick in.
He heard Agnes’s feet rushing away. He knew she was going to tell the others to get out of the warehouse. That she was going to save her brothers. She’d better get that sweet ass of hers outside, too.
Cass sucked in a breath. “Tell me how to disarm it. Tell me where it is. Tell me?—”
“We’ve got less than two minutes!” Winston screamed at him. “Get me the hell out of here! There is no stopping it! There is no disarming. It’s in the office on the second floor, hidden in the desk there. Get me the hell out of here! We have to go!”
Cass leaned over him. He snatched up the fallen gun. “I’m getting everyone else out.”
Winston clawed at his arm. “No, no, you’re not a hero. Don’t save them! You’re just like me, you’re just like?— ”
Cass broke free, leaving him bleeding and screaming.
