Part 5 (1/2)

Marney sighs. ”Let me just get a little more information on the p.r.i.c.k. See if I can figure out if the girl has a clue or not, all right?”

Before I can say anything else to Marney, my phone buzzes with a text: She got out. She's one h.e.l.la feisty little b.i.t.c.h.

”Aw, f.u.c.k!” I groan, rolling my eyes as I slam my fists on the counter.

”What?”

”That d.a.m.n girl.” I shake my head.

”Until we can find out more, don't trust her.”

I stand, grab my coat from the back of the chair, and walk out of the bar.

The entire way back to my house, I fume over everything. I pull up to the gate and punch in the pa.s.scode, looking at the security camera as it scans the grounds.

I park the car and walk up the stairs, wondering what in the h.e.l.l my brother can be trusted to do, aside from st.i.tch up a stab wound. He's too d.a.m.n nice sometimes. I want to hate him for it, but that sympathetic side of him came straight from our mother, which makes it hard to hate.

I enter the house and find only one of my uncles in the living room, and right next to him, bound and gagged, is that girl.

”Bob, what the h.e.l.l?” I ask, tossing my keys on the coffee table.

He shrugs. ”Your little brother's a pushover, that's how. He let her out of that f.u.c.king room, and first chance she got she clocked him one and ran.” He glances down at her, then back at me. ”She's got a f.u.c.king mouth on her too.”

”Yeah, I know.”

She's staring at the floor. Her hair is tangled and frazzled with pieces of pine straw matted in it. The clothes she's wearing are covered in dirt and gra.s.s, and her face is smeared with mud. She's a fighter, that's for f.u.c.king sure.

I walk around the back of the couch and squat in front of her. ”How stupid are you? Huh?”

Her chest rises and falls in uneven draws. She's shaking, her eyes wide, and she's struggling around the gag.

”I swear to G.o.d, if I find out you're anything besides just a f.u.c.king unlucky girl...” I can't even finish my sentence because the prospect makes me so angry.

Her brows pinch together in a frown and she glares at me.

”What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you? Why can't you just f.u.c.king listen and stay put until that stupid boyfriend of yours pays up?”

And then what? Release her so Joe can show up at my house? f.u.c.k, I am beyond screwed here.

I rise, repeatedly combing my hands through my hair. I can't stand to look at her right now. ”Where the f.u.c.k is Caleb?” I ask Bob.

”f.u.c.k if I know! I've been dealing with her s.h.i.+t for the past half hour.”

I storm off, shouting for him as I wander through the hallways.

”Caleb?” Silence. ”Caleb!” I deepen my voice as I round the corner to find him sitting at the foot of the stairs.

”You f.u.c.king let her escape?” I shout. He's my brother, but his stupidity p.i.s.ses me off.

He drags a hand through his hair, refusing to look up at me. ”I f.u.c.ked up. I'm sorry.”

”Jesus f.u.c.king...how the h.e.l.l am I supposed to trust you if you can't even look after a f.u.c.king girl? One girl, no weapons!” I yell, launching a vase from table. The sound of shattering gla.s.s gets Caleb's attention.

I grab him by his s.h.i.+rt, forcing him to his feet. I can see the flash of fear in his eyes, because he knows what's coming. ”What did I f.u.c.king tell you?” I ask.

He keeps his eyes down. ”Not to let her out of the room.”

”And what did you f.u.c.king do?” I twist the material in my hand and pull him to my face.

”I let her out,” he says quietly.

It's ingrained in me that when you get p.i.s.sed, you fight. I pull my elbow back and punch him square in the jaw. His head jerks to the side, and he rears his fist to punch me back, but stops, and his hand falls to his side.

”f.u.c.k, Caleb!” Releasing his s.h.i.+rt, I push him away from me.

He's holding his jaw. I know that hurt. I shouldn't have hit him, but d.a.m.n. ”Sorry. You f.u.c.ked up.” I shrug.

I don't wait for him to respond. I turn and head down the hall. ”Like I said, if she has to p.i.s.s, you tie her a.s.s up. Got it? I've got a meeting. Think you can handle the simple f.u.c.king task of watching her for a few hours until I get back?”

I make my way back to the front of the house, angry as h.e.l.l and late for an appointment.

When I pa.s.s Bob and that d.a.m.n girl, all I can manage is a growl. ”Probably best to leave the f.u.c.king gag in her mouth,” I grumble as I walk out the door.

As soon as Jude slams the door behind him, Bob grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me forward. ”Get the f.u.c.k back in that room.”

Every few steps, he shoves me and I stumble. We come to the door and I see Caleb standing at the end of the hallway. Bob pushes me through the door and I fall against the chest of drawers.

Caleb walks in after me, and I hear the lock click shut. There's an awkward silence between us, and he can barely look at me.

I wish I could tell him I'm sorry, but I have this stupid gag in my mouth. My head hurts from where it hit the ground. My feet are cut and my knees are skinned. Worst of all, though, it was all for nothing. I barely made it fifty yards before they caught me.

Caleb looks up at me and sighs, running his hand over the back of his neck; I've noticed he and his brother both do that when they get angry.

I'm waiting for him to shout at me, but he doesn't. ”It's my fault,” he mumbles. ”I knew not to trust you.”

I shake my head, trying to talk around the gag. The look on his face nearly kills me. He looks hurt and angry and confused, because surely he knows he shouldn't feel sorry for me.

Caleb is nothing like his brother. He's kind, too kind for this corrupt s.h.i.+t, and I just kicked him in the nuts for it. Literally.

Taking pity on me, he steps forward. His eyes have gone all puppy dog. He sighs, shaking his head as he unties the makes.h.i.+ft gag.

Guilt is eating me alive.

”I'm so sorry, Caleb!” I blurt the second I can speak.

”I trusted you, Ria. I felt bad for you.”

Oh my f.u.c.king G.o.d, could he make me feel any worse right now? His round brown eyes are gutting me.

He frowns, and a look of hurt crosses his features.