I’m already on edge, snapping at everyone within reach and second-guessing every decision.
I don’t know who else knows, and despite London’s assurances, it’s only a matter of time before my enemies find out.
Will Oliver deal a final blow?
Will Matthew make sure he strikes where it hurts?
Will our father stop any of it?
I pull the knife out of Ryder’s leg. “You’re going to tell me where your backup drive is.”
“I don’t have a backup drive,” Ryder pants, the sweat on his forehead glistening.
“I know you’re lying.” I position the knife over his other leg and watch him flinch. “So, let’s try this again?”
“I don’t have a—” I cut him off and drive the knife into his other leg as he shrieks. His head falls forward, panting and wheezing, then goes silent. When I use two fingers to push the knife in deeper, he whimpers.
“Just tell him what he wants to know, for Christ’s sake.” Noah’s voice cuts through the silence. “No story is worth your life, Ryd.”
Ryder’s head snaps up, and he looks at his brother. “Do you have any idea what’ll happen if I pull the plug on this? I’ll be the laughingstock of the paper. No one will touch me with a ten-foot pole. My career and everything I’ve worked for will be over. That backup drive is the only thing keeping me alive. Once he has it, he’ll have no reason to keep me alive. No guarantee I won’t try and run another story.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Noah murmurs. “We can still walk out of here together.”
Ryder makes a low choking sound. “We both know that’s not going to happen.”
“It will,” Noah maintains, his voice rising slightly. “We’ll get through it together, I promise.”
“I don’t want your promises,” Ryder says. “It won’t do me any good.”
I yank the knife out and throw it onto the floor. Then, I cross over to the table of tools and turn my back on them, my mind spinning. A door opens in the background, and I smell Carlisle before he says anything. When he comes to stand next to me, I hand him two strips of cloth.
Carlisle kneels in front of Ryder to stop the bleeding.
I stride over to Noah and wait for him to look at me. “Any last words?”
“I won’t play this game with you.”
I shrug and kick his chair. He falls sideways and cracks his head. Noah groans, blinks a few times, mumbles something, and goes slack.
I drag him to his feet.
“Where are you taking him?” Ryder protests. “You can’t do this. You’re not going to get away with this.”
I glance at Carlisle. “Shut him up.”
Ryder’s eyes widen as Carlisle stuffs something into his mouth. He sputters and jerks as I drag Noah up the stairs. I pause at the top and set him down to push the door open and gesture to one of the men beyond it. In silence, he scoops Noah into his arms and carries him to the car waiting outside.
Carlisle pulls Ryder up the stairs and stops next to me. “Should I knock him out, too?”
I shake my head. “I want him to be awake and aware of everything that happens next.”
Ryder makes a final attempt to break free, and it ends with me using the butt of my gun against the side of his head. Freshblood pours out of the wound there, and he sways on his feet. Carlisle hauls him off, and I catch a glimpse of his pale face before he rounds the corner and disappears.
In the kitchen, I stop to wash my hands and adjust the collar of my shirt.
On my way out, London comes down the stairs, her hair pulled into a ponytail on top of her head. She takes in my bruised knuckles. She quickens her pace until she reaches the foot of the stairs, and we stare at each other.
She reaches out a hand, but I step out of reach.