“You’re fucking crazy—you know that?” I started towards the door, but Rourke caught up with me.
“Crazy? Let’s talk about crazy.” Rourke’s eyes flashed with rage and his forearm went under my chin as he pushed me into a wall. “You killed a man in cold blood, for fucking money—don’t you realize what that has turned you into? You’re no better than Adrian Prescott!”
“Back off.” I shoved him—hard. “I’m nothing like that bastard. I don’t manipulate people or destroy their lives. I handle my shit, just like I should have handled that bitch! I should have cut her throat when I had the chance instead of letting you play your fucking game.”
“It wasn’t a game!” Rourke came at me and blocked the exit as I started towards it. “I had to show her what kind of man her father was—and who she really was.”
“Well now she’s gone, so who showed who?” My hands balled into fists. “What do you think she’s going to do when she gets back home? She’s going to tell the police exactly where we are and then they’re coming for us!”
“She won’t!” Rourke’s jaw tightened, and his hands balled into fists as well.
“I followed you once—all the way to the fucking North Side. Right into Adrian Prescott’s trap. You never told me that he tried to buy you off!” I looked towards the room where I was staying and started walking. “We should have never been there! Then none of this would have happened!”
“It was going to happen regardless.” Rourke followed me. “He knew who we were—knew we were involved with her. He was either going to own us or get rid of us. I couldn’t tell you because I knew what you would do.”
“Yeah.” I threw my mattress and grabbed the gun I had hidden underneath it. “Or maybe you underestimated me.”
I turned towards Rourke with the gun in my hand.
“What the fuck, Brody?” He blinked in surprise.
“You assume that I would have just taken Adrian Prescott’s money, right?” I lifted the gun and aimed it at him.
“You sure as fuck took it from those rich assholes offered it to us to kill Josef Weber.” Rourke held up his hands and stepped back.
“I had my reasons—not that you would understand.” My lips twisted into a snarl. “I wouldn’t have traded Anabelle for anything—that’s where you fucked up, Rourke. You didn’t give me a chance to prove that I was better than the man you assumed I was.”
“Then just let her go.” Rourke took another step back. “Give her a chance to prove herself.”
“I gave her one—a year ago.” I walked sideways towards the door, keeping the gun aimed at Rourke. “What did that get us, huh? Maybe you thought that little princess was going to betray her father—I don’t know what was in your head—but it wasn’t common sense.”
“I made a mistake. I’ve told you that. I was blinded by what I felt—I thought she was already loyal, but she wasn’t. I’m not wrong now. She finally sees the man her father is and understands what he did.” Rourke took a step forward but tensed when I lifted the gun high enough for it to be even with his skull.
“I’m not following you into another trap, Rourke. I’m going to find that bitch. I won’t cut her throat though—I’ll just put a bullet in her skull.” I grabbed the door and pulled it open.
I ran towards the car with enough distance to keep Rourke from easily catching up. He was through the door by the time I got to the car, but I was able to hop in the driver’s seat and crank it up. He ran to the passenger side, but I reached out and hit the lock before he could pull the door open. My foot hit the gas as I shifted the car in reverse and watched him stumble when the door was forcibly pulled out of his hand by the acceleration. My tires kicked up a cloud of dust as I started hauling ass down the dirt road that led away from the cabin.
I have to find Anabelle. There’s no way in the fucking world I can trust her enough to let her leave.
I understood what Rourke was trying to do and that was fine as long as we were in the cabin. He could play his fucking games, try to break her—whatever the fuck he got off on doing—but I lived in the real world where a confession would make sure I didn’t end up behind bars again. I didn’t care if Adrian Prescott was still sitting on his throne or not when it ended. I had enough money to leave and I would have gladly shared it with Rourke on a beach in Mexico.
But fuck it. If he’s going to act like this, then I’m on my own.
My car spun out at the end of the road. I let it come to stop and waited—watched—all I needed was one glimpse of the beautiful blonde. I figured she would run along the road somewhere, probably not on the road itself. I had traveled far enough that she should be behind my car, even if she was running as fast as an Olympic athlete. My eyes kept scanning and I killed the engine, hoping that she wouldn’t see the car until it was too late.
There she is.
I saw movement before I saw her, but it was too quick to be an animal. A second later, I saw her hair. She was headed right for me, but she was too far off the road for me to easily catch her. She was also pretty damn quick, and I was no fucking sprinter. I hopped out of my car and started running diagonal, hoping to get in front of her before we met. She saw me and immediately panicked. She ran for the road—fuck. I was never going to be able to catch her on foot if didn’t have the woods slowing her down.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I have a gun—don’t make me shoot you!” I pulled out my gun and found her in the sight.
God damn it.
I hesitated. Why did I fucking hesitate? I jerked the gun up before the bullet left the chamber and it hit a tree near her, but way above her head. She ducked and tried to keep going, but I saw her lose her footing and stumble—then she hit the ground. That was the opening I needed. I started closing the distance between us as she got to her feet. She wasn’t going to be able to get away from me, not after that—I was moving like a tank, but I had momentum. I busted through the bushes next to her as she got back on her feet and tackled her. I was on top of her—one hand around her throat and the other one holding the gun to her head.
“You fucking bitch!” I snarled, trying to make myself pull the trigger—not understanding why I couldn’t just execute the girl who had betrayed me.
“Let go of me!” She started pounding my chest with her fists, so I tightened my grip on her neck—she tried to speak—she couldn’t.