Fuck, it probably got damaged by the explosion. Explains why my men haven’t attempted to get a hold of me themselves. I cast a look to Jay, and he nods, a drop of sweat flinging off the tip of his nose.
“Come on, man, my grandma is sick. She’s probably wondering where I am.” I face Jay again. “Didn’t you promise your brother that you'd take him to Chuck E. Cheese tonight?”
Jay works to keep his face neutral, but that’s another reason he stays behind the screen. Kid can’t act worth shit.
“Yeah, uh… I should probably uh, call Baron and tell him I can’t make it.”
Make it a little more obvious, Jay, dear lord.
Baron isn't actually Jay's brother, but another of my men that could help us.
A little satisfied smirk tilts Jay’s lips, but he smothers it. The call must’ve been successful, which means Baron will be listening in and hopefully track us once he realizes something is wrong.
Jay continues after a few moments, “It’s probably important he knows that we’re being held hostage, right?”
Oh my God.
“I’d prefer he never know what happened to you and live the rest of his life wondering,” Patrick retorts, oblivious to Jay’s terrible acting.
Then, he turns to me. “You can keep playing your games, but you won’t be laughing soon.”
“How soon?” I counter.
I can’t see his face, but I can feel the confusion radiating from the black hole in his hood.
“My grandma is waiting.”
His fist clenching is my only warning before he sends it soaring into my cheek.
My head snaps to the side, and pain blooms across my entire skull. The punch would be tolerable on a typical day, but considering that I just suffered through an explosion, it feels like another bomb has been let off inside my head.
My instincts flare, and my fists clench with the need to hit him back. The beast inside my chest is thrashing and raging, and that precarious control slips a little more.
Addie. It’s for Addie.
Just barely, I manage to refrain. I need to give our men time to get to us, though I know it won’t take long.
“Jesus, a man can’t call his fucking grandma? Asshole.”
He shakes out his shoulders and turns away, and I scoot further down the bench. He can think it’s because I’m scared, but in reality, I’m two seconds away from ending his life prematurely.
While we wait, I work to decompress, keeping the boiling anger in check. That lasts a whopping ten minutes before I’m getting thrown for the second time today.
Something heavy crashes into the van from behind, sending Patrick and me flying off the bench and into the wall that separates the front from the back.
Jay is jerked to the side, but the seatbelt keeps the lucky son of a bitch anchored.
I groan, pain flaring in several different parts of my body as I roll onto my back and try to breathe. I can’t even tell which parts hurt anymore—fucking everything hurts.
Claire yells from the front seat, spitting demands at the driver to get the vehicle under control. The van continues to swerve side-to-side, the driver unable to regain control.
Another hit and the van lurches to the side and crashes into something solid. Patrick collides into me, colorful words spilling from my mouth as we slide towards Jay. My back slams into the wall as we come to a halt, the behemoth smashed up against me. My ears ring from the impact, and it takes several seconds to get my eyes to focus. Patrick may be disproportionate as hell, but he’s still really fucking heavy.
“Jay, tell me it’s who I think it is,” I grit out, taking advantage of the chaos and wrapping my arm around Patrick’s neck in a steel-tight grip. His hands fly to my arm, clawing at me as I gradually crush his windpipe. He struggles, and I clench my jaw as I fight to keep him still.
I’m weak, in an insurmountable amount of pain, and my muscles are loosening.
“Sure is,” he pants, sweat pouring down his pale face.
“Good,” I mutter before gripping Patrick’s head and snapping it to the side, breaking his neck and killing him instantly. “That’s for my grandma, dick.”
“Bro, none of your grandparents are still alive.”
Chapter 3
The Hunter
Claire is screaming from upfront to keep driving, but the engine stalls.
I kick Patrick’s dead body off of me and stand, perspiration coating my skin. I’m point-two seconds away from passing the fuck out. My body is beginning to shut down from the physical trauma, but I can’t allow it to just yet.