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Hold on to Hope

Page 118

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His brother?

I watched the commotion go down in Evan’s mind.

Disoriented.

Flustered.

Agitated.

The three of them got whipped up in a pit of fear.

So intense Evan paled and his body shook.

Saw the way his knees went weak. But he fought it. Remained upright. “I have no idea what you are talking about, Chris. But this madness needs to stop before someone gets hurt. Please. I’m begging you to put down that knife.”

Chris shook his head, carried on like Evan hadn’t said anything at all. “You have any idea what it’s like to live in the shadow of you? This fucking freak who can’t even fucking hear with his fake fucking heart?”

The arm locked around me tightened in a frisson of rage.

Irrational hostility.

I could see the stark fear streak through Evan’s expression, but he was trying to keep calm, trying not to set Chris off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I promise, but whatever you’re upset about, we can figure out. You can let her go.”

Chris chuckled a dark sound. “No can do, Big Brother. You took everything from me. You have any idea what it was like to grow up as me? Daddy fucking hated my mom because she wasn’t your bitch of a mother. Treated her like shit. Nothing but a punching bag for the rich prick to take his anger out on. A whore he came to in the middle of the night.”

Hate blistered through Evan’s features.

Our worlds spinning.

The frayed threads we hadn’t been able to put together knitting into a blanket of horrified realization.

Chris’s face pinched with disdain where he had his jaw pressed tight against mine, the sensation of it scraping my skin. “Then that piece of shit who was supposed to be my grandfather? He owed me one thing. One fucking thing. And guess who got that five-million dollars our daddy promised me to keep me from squealing to the counselors at school?” He whittled the knife a little deeper into my throat. “Ding, ding, ding. Not. Me.”

Hatred seeped into the room.

Venom.

Pure wickedness.

I gasped out in relief when he jerked the knife away from my throat and waved it around in the air. “Nice place you have here, by the way. What do you say we paint it red?”

Evan lunged forward.

Chris jerked me back, waving the knife again. “Wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ll give anything . . . all the fucking money. I don’t care. Just let her go. I didn’t know about you. I promise. You’re right. Our father is a prick. This is all on him. Let’s figure this out together.”

Could feel the air puff from Chris’s mouth, a sticky hot disease that blew through my hair, his unhinged mind spinning away.

And I knew . . . I knew in that moment there was going to be no talking him down from this.

Felt him crack a perverse smirk. “You know, I really thought it would be the kid that did you in. Ashley and I figured we’d get what was owed to us. Loved her, you know. Fucking loved that bitch. Turns out, she was a whore, just like my mother. She was only supposed to seduce you once. Tease you with the idea of a kid since I knew there was no chance you were going to have one. Bitch actually got herself knocked up. And then what did she do? Ran off the second she found out she was pregnant.”

My heart fell to the floor.

Ashley had been in on this?

Some sort of twisted, messed up plan to steal from Evan?

How could people be so terrible and cruel?

We’d started circling, and I knew Evan couldn’t hear the sirens that were approaching in the distance.

Oh, but Chris surely could. Knew he’d be gettin’ desperate. “Took me close to two years to find her . . . should have known she’d try to run again. I finally caught up to her, though, made her pay for what she did.”

A tiny yelp of agony jutted from my spirit.

Oh God.

Oh God.

“You took my childhood. My mother. The money. My girl. Time to pay up, asshole.”

“This is crazy, Chris. Just think about what you’re doing. I’ll give you all the money. All of it. Just let her go.”

Evan’s eyes kept darting to me. Telling me to hold on. That he was going to protect me. Not to be afraid when I knew neither of us had ever been so afraid in all our lives.

Chris carried on so casually. “I’m thinking there might be something in this world that is more important to you than the kid, though,” he mused.

He wielded the knife, dragging the blade close enough that it nicked my jaw in a slow, searing sting. I tried not to whimper. Tried not to cry. “She is pretty, isn’t she?”

Milo was in the hall, whimpering and whining, turning in circles.



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