A sharp jab from the barrel of the gun digs into my shoulder, urging me to do it again. “Sorry, my fingers are shaking,” I mumble.
I try again. This time, I get it right, and the safe door swings open.
I’m instantly shoved aside, stumbling backward intoTrouble’schest. Strong hands clamp onto my shoulders, steadying me. My breath catches as I look up, but his eyes aren’t looking back at me. They’re locked onto the empty safe.
Wow. Okay.
“Keep a hold on her, Damian,” the man orders, and the grip on my shoulders tightens.
His name isDamian.My heart pounds so hard I’m sure everybody in this room can hear it slamming against my rib cage. Everywhere Damian’s gloved fingers touch my skin,electricity pulses. I can’t separate the way he’s touching me now from the way he touched me last night.
It’s a dizzying tornado of emotional whiplash.
“Hey, look, man, I got nothing to do with any of this,” Henry stammers, raising his hands. His body slides along the wall, inching closer to the open door. “I’m just gonna go and?—”
“You’re not going anywhere,” the man with the gun interrupts, swinging the barrel toward him. His voice is ice cold. “Who are you to this family?”
Henry stills. “I—I’m nobody. I just hooked up with her.” He gestures toward Taylor.
The man’s expression flickers with something sharp, something volatile. His eyes narrow. “You fucked one of them?” He leans back slightly, like the thought unsettles him.
Damian’s grip tightens around me. My pulse stutters.Why would he react like that?Why wouldanyof them react like that?
What the fuck is happening here?
Henry shakes his head frantically. “I don’t know either of them. I swear, man, I got nothing to do with this. I won’t say anything to anyone. Just let me go.”
My jaw drops.What a fucking coward.
“Which. One. Did. You. Fuck?”
Henry stops moving. His lips tremble. “T-Taylor,” he whispers. “B-but please, don’t kill me.”
The man lowers the gun.
A flicker of light.
Then a deafeningcrack.
The sound hits me like a slap, stealing the breath from my lungs. I jolt back, ears ringing, mind struggling to process what just happened. The air fills with a sharp, acrid scent.
Henry slides down the wall. His eyes go wide, mouth falling open in a silent scream. Bright red blood spreads over the crotch of his pants and my knees give out. A thick latex-clad hand slapsover my mouth, pressing me back, stifling my cry. He just shot Henry in the?—
The man with the gun laughs, the sound crazy and wild. “How about now? You still want to live now?” His sharp voice rises above the static crackling in my ears.
Henry clutches at the front of his pants, face ghostly white. His chest heaves, breath coming in short, broken sobs. “My dick! My dick!”
He screams it over and over again.
Until anothercrackexplodes through the air.
Then, silence crashes down, leaving a hollow, ringing quiet.
Damian’s hand falls from my mouth, but his arm shifts, wrapping across my chest like a seat belt. My body locks tight, panic threading through my veins like ice. “Oh my God,” I whisper, voice trembling. I’ve never seen someone die before.
Henry’s head is still upright. He looks like he’s justsittingthere, frozen, his eyes vacant, his forehead a gaping, crimson hole. My stomach twists violently. A moment ago, Henry was aperson—a thinking, breathing, feeling person.
Now, he’s just . . . a sitting sack of flesh.
