“You know what pisses me off?” Anger snaps in Ferguson. For the first time during this encounter, he isn’t laughing. There’s no smug grin. “You murdered my brother and there were no repercussions for you. Piece of shit. Living the high life, acting like the world bends for you.”
I remain silent, watching him pace the floor, waving the gun in the air as he enters a crazed speech.
“Paul had social issues growing up. Kids never likedhim. They said he was strange. Too quiet. I saw the true boy he was—gentle and hard-working. Above all else, he was desperate to be loved. But those kids made Paul hate himself so much that he tried to end his own life.”
Ferguson’s pacing escalates and his voice grows louder. The words are spilling out of his mouth with increased anger and speed.
“When Paul was fifteen, I found him in a pool of his own blood. He was a troubled kid. My parents sent him to a clinic to get the help he needed. When he got out, he was doing so well. He showed promise for the future. He was socializing again. He found a girl he was happy with. They were supposed to get married. He’d even been accepted into MIT. And then youfuckingkilled him!”
I keep my voice level, trying to show reason, though I know any chance of Ferguson listening is close to non-existent. “The girl you say Paul was happy with—he assaulted her. Does that sound like the good man you think he was? I never intended to kill your brother, but the Paul you’re describing was a figment of your imagination. The real Paul was a predator.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” He slams the handle of the gun against the side of my head. A blinding bolt of pain sends my world spinning. “My brother was a saint. Women these days are the issue, always leading men on, flaunting themselves, acting like they want sex. Then they claim they were victims when a man touches them. The only victim in this situation was Paul. If he ever touched your whore, it’s because she led him on.”
Just like his brother, he has a warped view of reality. I hold Ferguson’s gaze but remain silent, contemplatingmy options and what else I can say or do to escape these ropes.
“Enough talk, Blackwood. I’m about to put a bullet through your head.”
Fuck.I need more time to think. But as Ferguson points the barrel of his gun at my head, I realize this is it for me. There is no more time.
After everything I’ve been through, this is how it ends.
The fucking irony.
I feel like I’ve lived through this very moment, nineteen and with the world at my feet, so unbelievably in love with Harper. Then everything ripped away by Paul’s death.
Now, here I am again. Full circle.
All I can think about is Harper and Tyler upstairs in our apartment, unsuspecting of what’s happening down here. The two of them waiting for my return. The danger they’re in.
“After I shoot you, your whore will be next.”
I snarl, thrashing in my restraints. My own life holds no importance. All I care about is protecting Harper, and I only have seconds left to talk sense into this lunatic.
“You want revenge for your brother’s death? Killme. Leave everyone else out of this. I’m the one who murdered Paul.Put me through whatever kind of hell that pleases you. But don’t you dare touch Harper.”
He laughs. “Do you not understand? The fact that the girl is so precious to you is exactly why I want to harm her. I might even test her out for myself and see what’s so special about her.”
“Fuck,” I growl, ripping my throat raw. “I swear, you will be a dead man if you touch her.”
“Did you not hear me when I said I don’t care about death? Besides, who’s going to kill me? You, tied up in that chair? Something tells me otherwise.” Ferguson steps closer, pressing the cold barrel directly to my forehead. “This is for Paul.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
HARPER
Tyler’s hands are around my waist as I unpack my skincare on the bathroom counter. I barely make any progress due to all the kisses he’s stealing. We’re laughing and joking around. The pain medication Felix gave me has kicked in and the cramps are gone. Tyler wants to get me naked and into the tub, but I insist we wait for Felix’s return.
“Jesus, fuck. What is taking Felix so long?” he murmurs against the back of my neck while pressing my ass to his dick. “The bath will need to be refilled.”
“Maybe he got caught up with business.” I spin around to face Tyler. His shirt is unbuttoned and my hands trail up the bare skin of his torso. “He did say he’d be quick. Let me call him.”
I return to our bedroom and grab my phone, dialing Felix’s number.
The call rings out.
“He didn’t answer.” I toss my phone on the bed,finding Felix’s silence a little odd. “Maybe we should go down and check on him.”
“Sure.” Tyler buttons his shirt and combs both hands through his hair.
