I set my hands on his shoulders. "You'll never believe this. Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to see for yourself?"
Without responding, Burke moved to the swinging door and watched the scene unfold through the window. "Oh, my fucking God."
"Blaine didn't eat. He presents a problem."
"The fuck he does." Burke pulled two guns from the back of his waistband. “He’s dead one way or another.”
"Okay, you're sexy as hell."
"What did they say?"
"Too much to tell you now, but the ultimate plan was to kidnap me and sell me to the brothers."
His head whipped in my direction. "This was my mother's plan, not my father's?"
"Supposedly, Asher killed Carson at Elena's request."
Burke's brows shot up. Biting my lip, I nodded, then followed him when he stormed into the dining room.
Elena had collapsed against the back of her seat. Mr. Greene had cleared out the few remaining patrons, leaving nothing but the sound of the gasping breaths of the dying and Blaine's sobs.
"It was you?" Burke demanded of Elena, loosely holding his hands at his sides.
"Burke, you don't have to do this. You can listen to the recording later," I told him.
"No, I want her confession straight from her lying mouth."
Asher clawed at Burke's suit coat, trying to rise from his seat. His face was blue, his lips white and covered in foam. Without taking his gaze from Elena, Burke shot Asher in the face. All I felt was gratefulness that he'd thought to use a silencer so we didn't go deaf. Idly, I wondered how to get brain matter out of a designer suit.
"That's your fate," Burke said to Elena. "Tell me what you planned for me."
Elena gasped for air. "You're more foolish than your father." Her breathing became more ragged. "She'll . . . ruin . . . you. Idiot."
"You won't be around to know the difference." Stepping away from her, he moved to Blaine's chair and crouched, gesturing to the knife lodged in his flesh. "You want help with that?"
Blaine nodded vigorously. "Yes."
"Then beg."
Blaine's eyes widened. "Please spare me."
"I said, beg me!" Burke demanded.
"Please!" Blaine cried. "Please, I told him not to do it."
"Only because you preferred Anna to me," I reminded him.
Burke's teeth snapped together. "Beg me to end your life quickly instead of torturing you first, motherfucker."
"Risparmiami!"
"I'm Irish, dumb fuck. I don't speak Italian."
I thought Burke knew several languages, but decided it was wiser not to speak up.
"Spare me! I beg you."
Straightening, Burke faced me. "What do you think?"
