He hooks the back of my neck and pulls me toward him until I can feel the heat of his breath on my face. His hand slides around to cup my jaw, and he runs the pad of his thumb along my cheek in tender swipes. “Incredible . . .” His eyes twinkle with wonder, and my insides meet his compliment with nausea. “You look just like her.”
Everything stops. My breath. Blood. Heartbeat. All of it suspended for a moment in time, everything except his lips.
“Now you’ll die like her.”
Mason
“Why the fuck are we just sitting here?” I whisper to the guys as we crouch low behind a gathering of large creosote bushes.
Blake and Jonah share a look, something they’ve been doing often, and it makes me want to knock their skulls together.
Jonah studies me, and I can’t miss the flash of pity I see in his eyes. “We’re outnumbered. There’re at least twenty of them, and they’re most likely armed.”
“So what? We just sit here with our dicks in our hands and wait for the cops? Who knows what could happen to her before they get here?”
We’d followed the rusty Jeep, maintaining a good distance to keep from getting spotted, and once they turned down the secluded desert road we had to pull even further back. At one point, I thought we’d lost them, but thankfully the sandy dirt tracks were an excellent giveaway.
“Got a better idea?” Blake’s eyes stay forward, his body tense.
I turn back and calculate how long it would take to grab my truck parked about a mile away behind a large boulder. They might have guns, but if I drive fast enough, I could burst through their little Kumbaya circle and grab Trix.
“Yeah, I do.” I turn to head to my truck.
“Whoa, hold up.” Rex snags my elbow, pulling me back to the bush. “Do you see that?”
We all lean in, squinting through the sparse leaves. The circle of men has split into a large U-shape, and in the middle is Trix. Her stark white T-shirt glows in a pool of inky black night. She’s still, not being held in place by anyone or anything physical, but stuck nonetheless. Her body sways, but her feet stay planted.
“She drugged?” Jonah growls and the tension between around us escalates.
One guy steps forward, clearly visible now that the circle has opened up. He’s talking, using his hands to motion between Trix and the men who stand around bouncing on their toes in anticipation.
“This is bad.” I squint for a better look while the guy waves his arms around. “This is really ba—what the fuck?”
Elijah.
Fire ignites in my veins and pushes me to stand. The guys hiss at me to get down, but it’s too late. Simple static fills my ears as I move forward. Hands grip my legs, my arms, but I shake them off as if they’re nothing while my focus zeroes in on Elijah.
They must hear me coming as, all of a sudden, the eyes of the enemy swivel toward me. Trix stares blankly at nothing, not registering my approach. The weight of the knife in my pocket warms my thigh, but I don’t reach for it. My fists ball, and I prepare to destroy the man who’s been fucking with my brother since birth, the man who’s tormented my mom, and now the man who’s fucked with my woman.
“Mason?” My stride slows, and my stomach hollows out at the sound of Drake’s voice. Him too?
He steps into my line of sight, standing as a barrier between Elijah and me, locking Trix behind him.
I blink and force my lips to move, processing his hat, his shirt, his . . . It was him at the motel. “You? You did this!” Adrenaline bursts like sweet nectar into my blood and feeds my anger. “My own fucking brother!”
I move to the echo of my roar as it acts like a war cry to my soul.
He puts his hands up, but it’s too late. “No—”
My fist connects. The sickening crack sends him skidding across the dirt.
Chaos breaks out behind me, but I only have eyes for the man in front of me.
Elijah grins, daring me to move. I lunge. He moves and pulls Trix to his chest. “One more move and the girl dies.”
I fix on her eyes, no longer vacant but now aware and filled with fear.
“Mason . . .” Her lips whisper and fade into a whimper.
Blood. All I see is blood. Her upper arm is wrapped and blood-soaked from an older wound. My stomach lurches. A slow stream leaks from where the tip of Elijah’s knife is pointed at her neck.
“Back the fuck up or she’s dead.” He says it like a challenge more than a threat.
He wants to kill her.
“Don’t hurt her.” I step back, keeping my eyes on hers, and hoping like hell she can find strength in them. “Let her go.”
“Fuck you.” Spit shoots from his lips.
There’s a scuffle from behind me, feet pounding the dirt and the sickening thud of fists and flesh. I say a quick prayer that my friends come out of this uninjured, but don’t dare take my eyes off Elijah.
“Please.” I hold up my hands as Trix trembles in his arms. “Walk away, Eli.” My patience is tethered by a thread as he jerks her head back hard.
“Can’t do that.” I see a flash of panic in his eyes. “She knows too much.”
I meet Trix’s gaze, asking the silent question. They widen with primal ferocity. What’s she saying?
“It was him.” The confession darts from her lips with an undertone of absolute fact.