Page 14 of Pretty Threats

“No.”

“I’m tired. Let’s do this,” War rumbles.

“You don’t need to be a part of it, Killian,” Jamie says. “Take a shower and go to bed. When you wake up, she’ll be gone.”

My pulse thrums in my throat. Could I do that? Walk away? There have been times when I’ve wanted her gone for good. The amount of control it takes to hold back when I want to grab her is fucking maddening. If she were dead…

Chewing on the corner of my mouth thoughtfully, I glance at my partners. These guys are trying to make it easy on me by offering to do it.

My muscles tighten reflexively as I shove that option aside. There’s no way I would let someone else kill her. If I want her dead, I’ll do it myself, so I’m the last one to ever touch her.

I’m not ready, though. Because after she was gone, there would be nothing but emptiness in the vast space she currently occupies in my head, leading me into a soul-sucking void of existence… everything silent, everything gray. So mind-numbing reality feels a million miles away. No fucking way. Whatever happens, Raine and I are not going to be separated.

If I can’t get War and Jamie to back off of this, they’ll have to kill me, too.

And I’m not ready to die.

As my survival instinct kicks in with full force, rage simmers in my blood. This might be the edge I need.

“What do you care?” War demands, spotting the look in my eyes and recognizing it.

“Can’t do it now anyway,” I say, my voice as steady as ever. “My text is the last one on her phone, and you know her phone’s pinged right off our tower.”

They’re silent but thinking. Here’s a small opening I can exploit.

“I’ve got a history of violence that any DA worth his salt will be able to uncover,” I continue, my voice a mix of ice and reason. “If Raine dies or disappears this morning, I’m Suspect #1. That brings the cops to our door. None of us wants that. Crue leaders do not want that.”

“He’s right. A nonstarter,” Jamie says, his gaze flicking over to Raine who’s so pale she’s like an alabaster statue in our kitchen.

I lean in, building my case brick by brick. “She’s got no evidence of anything. What did she really see? A trash fire and us coming in from canoeing. It’s nothing. Less of a danger to us than if she’s killed here.”

“Well, she saw smeared blood on the white suit. Some of the blood soaked through your black t-shirt,” Jamie says.

I grind my teeth. Yeah, that’s not a good thing for her to have noticed.

Jamie cocks his head and shrugs. “Still, rushing and doing someone in our own crib? That’s… suboptimal, as Trick would say.” He exhales audibly. “Look, this is thirty-six hours awake with the adrenaline worn off. Judgement is not at its best. Not for any of us.”

I say nothing because it’s better if Jamie’s the one who keeps talking. With no incentive to let Raine live, he’s more likely to convince War than I am.

War clenches his teeth impatiently. “If you’ve got a plan, get to it.”

Jamie licks his lips and glances at me, assessing. “If no one will come looking for her in the next couple of hours, she could stay here, under house arrest for trespassing. We’ll all get some sleep and make a plan when we wake.”

War rubs his stubbled jaw. “She’ll run.”

Jamie raises his index finger. “Not if she’s under lock and key.”

I don’t know what Jamie’s talking about. The main door and all the windows can be unlocked from inside. There’s no easy way to lock someone down inside the house.

Oh, wait. They must have handcuffs, which is not surprising given their sexual appetites.

Cuffing Raine for hours would be pushing things to the point of no return. But if it would save her life, I could convince her to stay calm and deal with it.

As long as I stay with her, I can control the situation.

And the thought of having her cuffed to me for hours… not a hardship.

“Find out if anyone will miss her,” War says.

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