He spins the cylinder one more time, points the gun at my forehead. My heart slams against my ribs, every muscle in my body tensing.
Click.
Nothing.
I gasp, my chest heaving, tears streaming down my face.
Joel lowers the gun, a dark smile spreading across his face. “See? Isn’t this more exciting than cards?”
My stomach churns, and I force myself not to vomit.
He crouches down, leveling his gaze with mine. “Next round in a couple of minutes. You better pray you stay lucky.” He walks away, whistling, leaving me and Pearl Necklace staring at the two bodies sprawled in the dirt.
My hands are still tied, my wrists raw and bleeding from fighting against the edge of the plastic. I glance over at the woman, who’s sobbing softly, and force myself to inch closer to her.
“We need to get out,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “We can’t just wait for him to come back.”
She looks at me, hopelessness written all over her face. “There’s no way out,” she whispers back. “We’re going to die here.”
I refuse to accept that. I look around for anything sharp, anything that can cut through the zip ties binding my wrists. Joel’s voice carries from somewhere out of sight, talking to his men, laughing. Fucking psychopath. My mind spins, desperate to come up with a plan. I have to survive. I have to find a way out of this. I’m not going to die in this pit. I whisper to Pearl Necklace, “Can you move your hands at all? Try to find a sharp rock or something.”
She nods, though it’s clear she’s barely hanging on. I push myself closer to her, pressing my hands against hers, trying to find a way to get our hands free.
But I can’t. I can’t break free.
Chapter Thirty-Six
DAMIAN
The early morning sun creeps over the horizon as we drag Zero’s body to the back lot of our land. The ground’s hard as hell, but we dig deep, dirt caking our hands, sweat pouring down our faces. My side aches with every movement, the pain threatening to drop me to my knees. Bridger takes over when I can’t anymore, covering the grave while I lean against the truck, trying to catch my breath.
After the last shovel of dirt is patted down, Bridger wipes his brow, spits on the grave, and mutters, “Good riddance, asshole.”
I force myself upright, trying to shake off the dizziness. Bridger wipes his hands on his jeans, squints at the grave, and then glances at me. “Think we should say a few words?”
I huff out a bitter laugh. “Fine. Here lies Zero—a man of few words, mostly because his vocabulary was limited to grunts and threats. Hobbies included sucking Joel’s dick, being a pain in my ass, and making me want to kill him every damn time he opened his mouth.”
Bridger snorts, tossing the shovel into the truck. “Beautiful. Really tugs at the heartstrings.”
I climb into the passenger seat, wincing as the ache in my side flares up again. Bridger starts the engine, but I can’t stopmy mind from circling back to Marlowe. She’s probably awake by now, realizing we left, cursing my family because we’re not coming back. The thought makes something in my chest ache. It doesn’t sit right with me, leaving her behind like that.
Bridger notices the way I’m zoning out. “You can’t still think she was in on it,” he says.
I don’t answer. Just stare out the windshield, fighting the urge to punch something.
He shakes his head. “You know she wasn’t.”
I glare at him, but the anger doesn’t stick. Images of last night flash through my mind—Marlowe pressing against me, her hands on my chest, her lips soft and desperate. The way she looked at me, like I was someone she could trust. Like I was someone worth something.
I liked it too much.
“Okay,” I admit, gritting my teeth. “She didn’t know about the money.”
Bridger glances over, eyebrows raised. “What makes you think that now?”
I look down at my hands, dirty and scraped. “When shit hit the fan, she covered Mom with her own body. Didn’t even hesitate. And after I killed Zero, she didn’t look at me like I was a monster. She looked at me like I was her fucking hero.” The confession tastes bitter, but it’s the truth. I didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to feel anything, but I do. And it’s too late to pretend otherwise.
Bridger leans back, crossing his arms. “You left her to fend for herself, man.”
