“What?”
“Peter. You’ve got something on him, don’t you? That’s why he keeps going back to you. Why can’t he seem to let you go? I work myself to the bone trying to make a better life for us and I’ve put up with the shit you’ve made me do, and for what? He just goes back to you like you’re fucking friends.”
Harris doesn’t reply. He relaxes back in his seat and gazes out the window.
“So, you’re going to ignore me?”
“I’m tired.”
“So take a fucking pill, I don’t know. You make me drive, you’re going to answer my questions.”
“I don’t answer to you,” Harris snaps. “But before you get any ideas, remember which one of us has blood on their hands. No matter how this goes down with the cops or the bastards hunting us, you’re the one with blood on your hands.”
My fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel as nausea pulls through my gut.
Is that what it’ll come down to now? Nothing Harris does will ever be worse than my taking the life of a man who, somehow, isn’t actually dead. I keep that truth to myself as we drive in silence down the highway, my eyes locked on the road ahead and my thoughts bouncing around concern for my brother and hatred of Harris.
Eventually, the route cuts off the highway and we drive along several winding roads lined with tall, dark trees that grow thicker and thicker the longer we drive. As the dark open road before me grows in shadows, I lose track of the last time I saw a house or even another car.
“Where are we?” I murmur, peering at the GPS. Unfortunately, the screen doesn’t display a road name or even a nearby town. I glance at Harris who hasn’t moved in so long, he might actually be asleep. “Harris?”
He jolts suddenly and faces me. “Huh?”
“Where are we?”
He shifts up in his seat. “Keep driving.”
“Not until you tell me where we are or where we’re going. I haven’t seen a building in at least thirty minutes.”
“Juststop!” he snaps suddenly. “Stop questioning, stop complaining. It’s so fucking grating. Just keep driving until it tells you to stop, alright? Fucking hell, I’m trying to sleep.”
I snap my mouth shut, grinding my teeth against the inside of my cheek, then I reach into my pocket for my phone. The second the screen lights up, Harris kicks into action.
“The fuck are you doing?”
“Calling my brother.”
“Fucking hell—give me that!” Harris lunges at me, slamming me into the car door with his weight while grabbing my wrist and twisting so painfully that my phone slips from my fingers with a pained gasp. The car skitters across into the other lane, and I have to fight with the wheel to get us straight back on the road while Harris slumps back in his seat.
“No one’s calling anyone!”
“The fuck is wrong with you? You’re making me drive into the middle of nowhere and expecting me to trust that there’s some grand plan here, but you know what?” I slam on the brakes, sending us both forward into the dashboard. “Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere until you let me talk to my brother!”
I turn to Harris and freeze as the lights from the dash glint off the barrel of the gun he has pointed at me. His mask whines slightly with every wheeze.
“Drive,” he barks. “Or you’ll never see your brother alive again, understand?”
His cold words confirm the worry in my mind. He did split us up for a reason. How did Peter not see this happening? His blind trust in Harris despite his kidnapping makes no sense to me, and as I stare at him, a deep hopelessness floods my chest.
“Drive,” Harris orders, and when I don’t move immediately, he raises his voice. “Drive!”
“Is this how it’s going to be now?” I gasp, flinching as I start the car again. “Whatever you have on my brother gives you free rein over both of us, huh? He follows you like a puppy, so it mustbe something good. Did you make him kill someone too so he’s always in your debt? Well, let me tell you something, I’m not stealing for you again and I’m not hurting anyone else, you hear me?” Tears begin to flood my eyes. “I’m tired. You’ve forced me to be someone I hate and I can’t stand it. Everyone has a limit, Harris, and when you?—”
The next bend in the road has me slamming on the brakes with both feet, bringing the car to a screeching stop in the middle of the road. Several black SUVs block the road in front, illuminated by headlights that blind us, and I screw up my eyes, raising one hand to combat the glare.
“The fuck?” Harris grunts.
“This isn’t you?” I say while squinting and trying to peer through my fingers.
