“Yeah, and what the fuck happens once she tells them she stole it?” Blaise demands.
Deacon laughs. A dark, cold laugh. Damn, no wonder Ivy turned out to be such a bitch.
“They’ll let her work it off.”
Oh, hell no. I can guess whatthatmeans. My fingers pick at the threads of rope I can reach. Blaise loosened them quite a bit before Deacon came in.
“Fuck that,” I snap. “How much? I’ll get you the money, Deacon.”
“Don’t work like that, Kadence. You oughtta know better. Being a Dragon’s ol’ lady.”
Another sickening thud as his fist slams into Blaise’s face threatens to break me.
“I can go all day, baby. What’s it gonna be?” Deacon asks.
“Don’t youdare, Kady.” Underneath the forceful tone of Blaise’s voice, he’s breathing heavy. Knowing he’s in pain shreds me. His body already took a slam into the concrete when we crashed. How much more can he handle?
My hesitation causes Deacon to land another punch.
“Okay, okay.”
“I can take it, Kady,” Blaise shouts. “Don’t you say a fucking word.”
His voice. Not the words, but the tone. It reminds me of our conversation. How hurt he was that I thought he couldn’t protect me.
This is my chance to prove that Idotrust him to protect me. Even given our shitty circumstances. It kills me, though.
Each blow that lands on him explodes over my skin as if they’d been delivered to me.
I can’t do this.
I’ll have to prove my trust in him some other way.
“I can’t, Blaise. I can’t stand you being hurt,” I whimper.
Neither of them seem to hear me. I wriggle a little more. The rope around my right ankle loosens, and I put more pressure on it.
Deacon takes a break, pacing next to me.
“Kadence, your boy ain’t lookin’ so hot. We both know you’re gonna do what I need you to do. Why make him suffer more?”
“If I do this, you promise you’ll let him go?” I ask.
Deacon kneels down in front of me. “Kadence, I give you my word. Do this for me, and I’ll hand him over to his father. No worse than he already is.”
It’s probably not the right time to point out that Deacon’s word is shit as far as I’m concerned.
“What happens to me?”
This time Deacon focuses somewhere over my shoulder. “I’ll protect you.”
Nothing like a lukewarm promise of safety from a man you don’t trust.
When I fail to give him an answer, he stands—to hit Blaise again, I assume. My legs strain with the effort of pulling against the ropes, but finally, my right foot pops free. I kick out, catching Deacon behind the knee. He stumbles and curses.
Blaise rocks his chair sideways until he’s facing me.
Upstairs, there’s an explosion.
