Trevor shook his head, shoving away the voices of doubt. It was too late to give up now. He grabbed Daniel’s jaw, forcing him to look into his eyes. “How about you keep your legal advice to yourself and let me handle things, okay?”
Cold determination flashed in Daniel’s eyes, as to be expected of a man with nothing to lose. “Your brother will go to prison. You hear me, Andy? You’re going to be locked in a small cell with people who will beat the shit out of you every single day. There will be no Trevor to protect you, no comic books to read, and no fucking Doritos!”
Trevor glanced at Andy, who’d turned pale as a piece of paper. “Don’t listen to him.”
“But Daniel’s smart. You always said that.” Andy’s chin quivered. “I don’t want to go to prison, Trevor!”
“I won't ever let that happen. He’s just talking shit.”
“I’m not! Andy, listen—”
Trevor growled and climbed on top of Daniel, slapping him as hard as he could. “I don’t want to leave bruises, but a few slaps should be fine.”
With his hands tied behind his back, Daniel could do nothing but yell and squirm as Trevor landed more and more slaps across his unprotected face. It felt good, felt liberating, and damn if he didn’t deserve it for scaring Andy.
“Trevor, you should stop.”
With his hand raised, he craned his head at Andy. “What’s up with you?”
“I’m hungry, and you said we shouldn’t leave marks on Daniel.”
The unexpected display of common sense made Trevor stop. He got up, leaving Daniel’s face with bright red marks, but those should likely pass before his upcoming demise.
Trevor reached for the half-empty bottle of vodka. “Finish this up so I get us some food.”
Daniel turned his head away, his jaw set.
“Come on, you know you had it coming. Open your—”
“Trevor, what are these lights?”
“Which lights?” He looked around and almost dropped the bottle. Blue and red lights shone through the window, illuminating the walls. He could hear the approaching car, but the siren was off. Still, this was one hundred percent a police car driving closer, and there was no other place for it to drive toward.
Fuck me sideways.
He put the bottle on the table, then jumped to his feet facing Andy. “You and Daniel get into the basement.” He picked up Daniel’s gun from the small cabinet next to the couch and gave it to Andy. “Aim it at him at all times.”
“I never used a gun!”
“It’s just like in the movies; you point and squeeze the trigger. Butonlyuse it if he tries to attack you or escape. Best to hit him in the head with it instead.”
“Help!”
Trevor jumped on Daniel and slapped his hand over his mouth. Outside, the police car parked, the blue and red lights filling the house and making Trevor dizzy. His heart drummed hard enough to hurt. He spotted one of his shirts on the floor next to the couch. While still blocking Daniel’s mouth with one hand, he stretched and picked up the shirt, then swiftly shoved it deep into Daniel’s mouth, getting a nasty bite in the process.
He pulled Daniel to his feet and dragged him toward the basement. “Help me get him downstairs, but be careful with the gun.”
Daniel fought wildly next to the basement door, screaming through his gag and trying to kick them.
The blue and red lights vanished. An icy grip of terror tightened around Trevor's lungs. The cops would be here any second, and perhaps have already heard the ruckus. With no other option, he smashed his fist against the side of Daniel’s head, unintentionally sending him flying down the stairs. It happened too fast for Trevor to reach out and catch him. With his hands tied behind his back, Daniel had no way of stopping the fall or protecting himself. By the time he hit the ground, he was unconscious. Maybe dead.
“Shit.” Trevor hurried Andy inside. “Take care of himand make sure none of you make a sound. I’m counting on you.” He shut the door and dragged the nearby closet to cover the entrance.
A firm knock on the front door dropped his heart to the floor. He collected himself and put on a forced smile as he went to greet his guests.
*
“Sorry to bother you, sir, but we got a complaint about a possible crime that might be taking place in this location.” The policeman was as tall as Trevor and stockier, his face plain yet his eyes sharp. His nametag read Gary Johnson.
