He kept his eyes on mine as he slowly raised his hands. “I just want to talk.”
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” I said.
He nodded.
I waited.
“Talk or leave.”
“Can you put the gun down?”
“No.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why were you in that casket?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Unless you’re not Whitney Carlson and Glenn Warner isn’t your ex-boyfriend.”
For a split second, I considered pulling the trigger and running like hell, but I took a breath and reminded myself that I had a gun in my hands while his were in the air. I was still in control. “That depends. Are you Sawyer Stone Hart?”
I nearly laughed as his eyes widened in surprise.
“So, you do know things,” he said, seemingly to himself.
“Is that why you’re here?”
He stared at me for several moments. “Yeah. I need to know what you know.”
“Why?”
“That gun says you know why.”
“The only thing this gun says is go away.”
I wasn’t willing to answer his questions, not without reassurances he didn’t seem willing to give. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to shoot him, but I couldn’t let him leave, and I did not want him to stay.
He tilted his head back and audibly exhaled before looking directly at me. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?”
He snorted a laugh. “Fuck if I know.” He ran his hands through his hair, but quickly brought them back in front when I tightened my stance. “Sorry! Sorry,” he rushed out. “Listen, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Noted. Not believed, but noted.”
“Fine. I don’t care. I just need to know how you got in that casket.”
“I already told you I don’t know.”
Once again, he tilted his head back and slowly exhaled. “All right, I think you were at Wood Pawn, and the brothers put you in the bag with Glenn. If you can confirm that, I can offer you the club’s protection.”
“Protection? From what?” I asked, trying to stall so I could think.
“The Wood brothers. The Grave Prowlers.”
“I thought you weren’t going to hurt me.”
“I’m not.” He sighed. “How much do you know?”