Walker pops up and goes to get her what she wants, the shared warmth in their gaze making my heart expand. This room of people is so much more than a bunch of criminals. We’re a family, one tied together in every way possible.
Bryce finally recovers from the dick shot, and tries to get his toes planted solidly against the concrete, hoping to give his arms a rest. “You think you’re so tough now, don’t you?” he croaks, anger keeping him from his good sense.
The slight rasp in Clara’s voice when she answers reminds me of his hands around her throat, the way she was too lethargic to keep fighting back, and my fists clench.
“No, I’m not tough.”
“What, you’re convinced you can do this and nothing will happen to you? You think you’re so smart no one can touch you?”
This has her throwing her head back, laughing so hard she’s crying. Bryce tries to shout over her laughter, but Trips slaps him, stepping back behind Clara, the way he’s trembling matching my own barely contained violence.
When she recovers, she wipes tears from her cheeks. “That’s a good one. No, I’m not smart. I’m not cautious when I should be, and while I’m great at stepping up, I usually do it by putting myself in danger. Which, I guess you know, as you could always count on me taking abuse that didn’t belong to me. Those things don’t make me smart. Thank God I’ve got these guys here with me, keeping me from the worst of myself.”
She glances down at her fists, then slides her eyes first to Trips, then to me. “Speaking of which, I think I’m done for now. I’m going to take a shower.”
She spins, grabbing both Jansen and Walker’s hands and dragging them up the stairs. I’m a little jealous, but I know she’s trusting Trips and me to dole out the punishment this scum deserves. And that trust isn’t nothing. In fact, it’s everything.
Trips walks up to me, playing up his casualness, wrapping an arm around my shoulders in a way I’ve only ever seen from him the handful of times he’s actually gotten drunk. “So, part of me wants to dismember him while he’s still alive,” he says.
Picking up on what he’s doing, I practice the few acting skills I’d been taught on those long Mexican afternoons. “We don’t have the best tools for that here.”
“We’ve got a circular saw.”
“That won’t make it through thighs. His biceps are probably small enough, though.”
Bryce inches his toes around so he’s facing us. “You two think you’re so scary.”
Trips steps forward, dropping the act. “Oh no. I don’t think I’m scary. I know I am. I don’t know what all Mattie told you about our family, but I’ve been torturing people since before I could drive. And I’ve killed more than one. You’re just going to be another in a long line of ghosts haunting me.”
I circle from the other side, my voice making him jump. “I don’t think this one will haunt you at all. Not after what he’s done to Clara and Mattie.”
“I think you’re right.”
“They both asked for everything I gave them. Their regrets have nothing to do with me.”
Trips moves viper fast, his fist cracking into Bryce’s already busted nose. Bryce makes a keening noise before he chokes on the blood gushing down the back of his throat, trying to spit it out while rocking back and forth from his wrists, his hands turning purple. Most of the blood ends up on his shirt, the rest on the concrete.
“We’ll have to sanitize the floor after this,” I say.
“Unfortunately,” Trips answers.
“Do you think he’ll ever admit that he’s the problem here? Or is he incapable of it? Too stupid and weak to take ownership?” I ask.
Bryce shakes like a dog, getting his feet under himself again. “I got into med school. Meanwhile, you two are beating a man in the basement of an abandoned house. Imagine my surprise when I followed my trackers to this place. There isn’t even a fridge here. Too poor to stay in a hotel without daddy’s money, Archie?”
Trips lashes out, the series of punches given with what seems like no emotion. But I know him, and he’s close to losing his newfound control. “Mind if I step in?” I ask.
Trips backs up, leaning against the wall, his arms straining against the sleeves of the too-small shirt. “As long as you make it hurt.”
“Your sweet little baby sister told me she loved me when I took her virginity,” he spits out.
Trips grits his teeth, but just raises a brow at me.
I step behind Bryce, not wanting him to see me coming, wanting him to wait and worry the way he made Clara dofor months. Then I slice my fingers into the parts of his body that will hurt the most, his startled yelps soothing something inside me.
“What, you’ve got a crush on little Mattie?” he manages to get out. “She’s soiled goods now, though, man. Just like Clara.”
My kick to his kidney hits at the same time as Trips’ fist to the gut, the competing forces leaving him screaming, flopping in an uncontrolled pattern.
