This was the eruption ... the meltdown. He’d blamed it on his grandfather’s situation, but it had likely been coming all along.
“If you are carrying any sort of weapon, toss it on the ground,” he ordered.
Vera held up her hands. “I’m unarmed.”
“She’s lying,” Patton said, her voice too high pitched. “She has a handgun. I saw it.”
Vera sent her a scalding look. What the hell was wrong with her?
“Toss it on the ground, Vera,” he ordered, “or I will stick your sister.”
Vera removed the handgun from her waistband and tossed it to the ground beyond the porch. She sent Patton another withering look she hoped conveyed her thoughts.Stupid bitch.Did she really think following an order like that one was going to save them? It was one thing to make a bad move but a whole other level of stupidity to give away a secret unnecessarily. How would he have known Patton had seen the weapon if he found it?
He wouldn’t have, damn it.
“Come inside,” he ordered.
Vera climbed the three rickety steps and walked in first. Patton stayed close behind her.
“Nice of you to join us, Vera.” The door slammed to a close. “Though I do not appreciate your foolishness.”
She turned around slowly, her gaze seeking and finding her sister. She was alive. Thank God.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” She shrugged. “Your grandfather didn’t mention that I couldn’t come prepared—if that’s what you mean.”
“Mike.” Patton rushed to the man on the floor. Judging by the blood on the front of his clothes and the fact that he only vaguely reacted to her presence, he was barely hanging on.
Shit. Shit. Shit. This was bad.
Eve sat in the opposite corner from the others, hands and feet bound. She nodded, only the slightest dip of her chin, but said nothing. Vera did the same. Eve showed no visible injuries. No blood on her clothes. So far so good on that count. The room was empty, save a couple of chairs and an old cabinet-style television. A bag and about an inch of dust sat on top of it.
“My grandfather insisted you were too clever for your own good. It seems he was correct.”
Vera turned back to the man leaning against the closed door, a long-bladed knife in his hand. A sheath hung at his side. Probably attached to his belt the way a hunter would wear one. Only this man didn’t hunt animals ... he hunted humans—women who fit a certain profile. The occasional male who got in his way or suited his purpose.
Pushing aside all the thoughts and realizations that would change nothing, she asked, “How do you want to do this? It’s only a matter of time before the sheriff and his people find us.”
“I’m aware.” He held Vera’s gaze. “Patricia, secure her,” he barked.
Patton scrambled to her feet. Grabbed something from the bag on top of the television and rushed to Vera.
“Put your hands together,” she said, her face still clouded with that fear.
Vera held her hands together in front.
“Behind her,” Patrick ordered. “I cannot trust this one.”
Vera rolled her eyes and shifted her arms around so that her hands were behind her back. Patton tightened the zip tie into place.
“On the floor,” Patrick ordered. “Next to your sister if you like.”
Vera walked to the corner where Eve leaned against the wall and sat down. Patton quickly secured her ankles with another zip tie. She didn’t meet Vera’s gaze. Unquestionably she understood how utterly stupid what she’d done was. Then she hurried back to stand before the asshole orchestrating this shitshow and to await his next order.
“I have waited a long time for this,” Patrick said, drawing Vera’s attention to him once more. “You took my grandfather away from me. I needed him ... needed his guidance.” He looked away a moment, as if overwhelmed by emotion.
Vera wanted to puke. How dare he pretend to be emotional.
“Now,” he glared at her once more, “he is dying.”