No White Knight

“Can’t let her what, Miss Liberty?” a voice thunders behind Sierra.

A heavy shadow falls over us both.

My heart freezes.

In my peripheral vision, Sierra’s eyes widen, the glassy pale blue of defeat.

Right before she suddenly jerks out of my field of view, lifted by a brutal hand.

Thrashing, twisting, I manage to kick the chair around so I can see, but there’s nothing I can do to stop Declan from picking Sierra up in one hand like she weighs nothing, grabbing her up by her hair while she kicks and screams and thrashes.

“Let her go!” I snarl, yanking at the ropes, but it’s no use.

He ignores me, looking at Sierra with cold contempt.

“So you finally decided to turn on me,” he spits. “I always knew you were weaker than—”

He breaks off with the oddest sound, like he’s just swallowed his tongue.

Sierra kicks hard, slamming her heel hard into his crotch.

She’s wearing some cute little kitten heels, by the way.

Pointy as blades.

Declan doubles over, his face going white, his eyes bulging. His hand goes limp in Sierra’s hair before flying over his crotch.

Sierra tumbles to the floor, hitting it hard with a cry.

“Sierra,” I gasp out. “Run!”

She struggles up on one arm. “Libby, I—”

“Don’t worry about me, just go!”

Declan lets out a breathless roar. “I’ll fucking—”

He starts to reach for her, still half bent over, wheezing and red-faced and hobbling.

Sierra rolls under his grasping arm, onto her back.

With a vengeful little scream, she drives her foot up again and slams him right in the nuts one more time.

Holy hell!

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a grown man make the sound that comes out of his mouth right now, like someone just punted a seagull in the gut, high and screeching.

I also don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of my sister.

Declan totters backward, his legs buckling, and Sierra scrambles to her feet and darts for the door.

At the doorway, she pauses, looking back with sad, worried eyes. I manage a smile for her.

I nod, just once. No time to waste on words.

It’s okay, I tell her. Go now.

I’ll be all right.

Holt’s coming.

And between me and him, we can tackle this idiot clown.

We’ll make him pay back every red cent of evil tenfold.

Sierra hesitates a second longer. Her gaze flicks to Declan, and her eyes darken with something I recognize all too well.

Hatred.

Then she’s gone, just a faint clatter of her heels on the rickety porch before she disappears into the night.

I’m glad.

Grateful that even if I don’t get out of this okay, Sierra surely will.

For now, I just watch as Declan sags on his knees, clutching both hands over his puny dick like a little boy who’s really gotta go and tries to hold it in.

His eyes are closed, his expression pained, his jaw a lump of iron.

“That. Fucking. Bitch,” he wheezes, over and over again, like a mantra he’s using to control the pain, rocking back and forth. “That bitch, that bitch, that bitch!”

I smirk. “What do you expect? She’s my sister, dude.”

He opens his eyes to hazy slits, looking at me with abject loathing—then lunges, only to let out a grunt and flop back, wincing and clawing at himself again.

Harsh breaths slip past his lips.

“You might wanna put some ice on that,” I point out. “And hold still a bit. No smacking me around or anything. Ruined balls are weird like that. You never really realize how much you pull with your core until you’ve got a collapsed left testicle.”

“My God,” he grinds out. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Not if I can help it,” I fling back cheerfully.

Right now, I just gotta keep him talking. Keep him busy.

I want him distracted when Holt shows up, and not ready and waiting to pull some nasty shit on my man.

“You want me to be quiet now? You were practically begging me to talk before. I don’t think flip-flopping’s a real attractive trait in a man, you know.”

“Enough,” he grunts. It’s real satisfying that I can tell he’s still about to pop from the pain. “Now shut up unless you actually have something useful to tell me about the silver.”

Silver?

Oh.

Frick.

That must be what Holt told Declan to get him to meet.

One sly, sexy lie.

Might as well play into it.

If he figures out Holt tricked him, it’s over for all of us. So I just shrug as best I can—but that’s when I feel it.

The ropes are looser.

Sierra made some progress on that knot after all.

Curling my fingers, I try to search for the loose spot in the rope while I keep talking.

“Silver? It’s in my kitchen drawer, you idiot,” I say. “I dug it all up myself. Melted it down into a pretty silverware set. You were gonna get to eat off it for dinner before you had to be an asshole in my house. You’re disinvited to future family gatherings, by the way. Pretty sure a double-stomp to the nuts is an effective Dear John. Pity. You’d have been a good brother-in-law, right?”