Pierce flinches. His face crumples, raw pain carving new lines. “I didn’t…” he starts, voice cracking.
“Didn’t what? Didn’t leave my boy bleeding out on the floor? Didn’t run like a coward while my son died?”
“He didn’t kill Reed,” Liam says firmly, taking a small step forward. His voice is calm, almost reasonable.
“Nah, but he did tell Reed to kill me. Even gave him the knife to do it. And then ran like a pussy when Reed couldn’t get the job done.”
“Papa, you killed Reed?” I struggle for air as Papa’s arm tightens around my throat. The edges of the room begin to blur.
Pierce’s head snaps up. We connect across the insurmountable space. Everything goes quiet like it’s just the two of us caught in a hurricane as the eye passes over. Those few stolen moments of peace and stillness, before the back end of the storm hits and ruins everything. It’s just him and me and his scent making everything right.
His lips move. I know he’s not making a sound like the words are being whipped away by the whirlwind of everything around us. His lips move, and it’s like I can hear him right in my head.
Ash.
I didn’t kill him.
I loved him.
I love you.
I reach for him. Papa yanks me back, and the eye passes; we’re back in the storm.
“Let Ash go, and we can talk this through.” Liam takes another careful step, hands raised.
“Ash?” Papa barks out a laugh and jerks my head back painfully. “Her name is Lynn.”
“My name is Ash,” I rasp out, digging my fingers into his arm to get more air.
“Shut your mouth.”
“If you hurt her,” Beckett says quietly, but each word shakes the room, “I will end you.” There’s no rage in his voice, just absolute certainty. It sends a shiver down my spine.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Papa wiggles the gun to prove he has the upper hand.
“Randy, you stupid fuck,” Estelle sniffs and wipes her nose. She almost sounds bored. “I seriously hope you gave me a black eye. We were just going to run you out of town. Now, I don’t want to think about what he’s going to do.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy bitch?”
“My uncle.” Estelle says simply, as if it’s obvious.
Papa shifts his weight from foot to foot like that’s going to kick-start his brain.
Estelle rolls her eyes. “Enzo?”
At the name drop, I can feel Papa’s heart pound out of his chest.
“You’re lying,” he says, but there’s no conviction in his voice.
“The gambling debts? He’d just squeeze you for the rest of your pathetic life. What you’ve been doing to Ash? And planning to use her heats to pay off your debts? Whew.” She shakes head and blows out a breath. “But this?” She uses both hands to gesture to the whole room, “I don’t know, man. I’d run hard and fast if I were you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but it’s weak, desperate.
“Matter of fact, we’ll give you a head start.” She wags a finger between herself and my alphas. “Put the gun down. Let Ash go, and I’ll give you five minutes before I call my Uncle Enzo, and let these three alphas loose.”
“You’re lying,” he says, shaking, the gun scraping down my cheek a little.
“There’s two things my uncle doesn’t tolerate.” Estelle holds up two fingers.
