Page 62 of Dagger

“Nicholas,” I stammered out as fear gripped every inch of my body until I trembled.

The man, my brother, stood towering over me. His eyes held a level of hate I’d never witnessed before, and it was all focused on me. “So, you finally figured it out. Good.” He stepped forward, forcing me back to avoid being run over.

“I had no idea.” The words stammered out of me. My hands went cold first, and then the rest of me. “Why are you here? Why now?”

“Because, dear sister, it is time for you to pay for all the things you did wrong.”

“What did I do wrong? I literally just found out about you yesterday. My father never told me.”

“Of course he wouldn’t.” He tossed his head back and threw out a bitter laugh. “He never would’ve tainted his sweet little princess with stories of his bastard son.”

“Okay, Sinclair, I know you have a lot going on and all but…” Sarah’s words trailed off as she took in the scene, the tall angry man towering over me. Intimidating me. “What’s going on?”

Nicholas took a step back and watched Sarah and then me, and then Sarah again. “Get back into the kitchen, bitch. Now!” He was suddenly vibrating with anger as he followed Sarah. “Rope,” he mumbled to himself. “I need rope.”

I glanced at the closed door beside me, wondering how far I’d get if I made a run for it.

You can’t leave Sarah.

No, I couldn’t, but I could find something to defend us, something that might scare him off. My gaze swept across Dagger’s living room. All I found were lamps and throw pillows and one of Dani’s stuffed animals, but nothing that would take down the mountain man I shared a father with.

“Don’t even fucking think about it,” he snarled as he walked to the front door, leaned out, and returned with a black leather bag.

My heart stopped at the sight of it. He was prepared, which meant bad things for me. “Look, Nicholas, why don’t we sit down and talk about this.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He rushed back to the kitchen, and this time I followed, watching in horror as he pulled out plastic zip-ties and wrapped them around Sarah’s wrists.

“Stop! What the hell are you doing?” I grabbed his arm and tugged as hard as I could.

He shrugged me off, but I was determined to save Sarah, even if I couldn’t save myself. “Don’t be brave, Sinclair.” He shoved me back so hard my head slammed against the wall and my legs shook.

Everything around me went fuzzy, but I was still conscious, and I knew I had to stay that way to save myself and my friend.

“Look, dude, I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but this is crazy,” Sarah said.

“I’m not here for you, but I will kill you if I have to. Got it?”

She nodded.

He was stomping around the kitchen pulling open cupboards and doors.

“Good. Now get inside.” He shoved her into the small pantry that held shopping bags, a broom, and a mop and bucket. He then shoved a chair under the knob and sighed before slowly turning to me. “Finally.”

I realized I’d waited too long.

He wasn’t going to hurt Sarah, and now my chance to flee was gone. But I got to my feet and tried to run anyway.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said in an almost amused voice. “You don’t want quality time with your big brother?” He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me to my feet. “We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

“Doesn’t seem like you want to catch up,” I said as he shoved me onto the sofa.

“This is all your fucking fault!” Every syllable screamed out of every inch of his body. He radiated pure anger, so much that he couldn’t stand still and started pacing the length of my living room, with only the coffee table between us. “Mom,mymom, died in poverty. She didn’t have one fucking thing to her name when she died. Because of you!”

Okay, so he was crazy. Obviously, he was crazy since he’d been stalking me for who knew how long. “I’m sorry for your loss.” No need to poke the bear, especially when I knew how terrible that loss was.

“No, don’t act like you fucking know my life! She was my whole damn world and now she’s gone. For thirty-three years it was just me and her, and now she’s gone.”

Another sliver of fear shot through me. His loss was recent. I felt bad for him, I really did, but my life and my baby’s life also mattered. “You got more than thirty years with your mother. I didn’t even get a decade.”

---