Page 106 of The Bad Brother

Don’t do that.

Don’t you fuckingdarefall apart.

Not now.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I do my best to control my breathing but it’s no use. The harder I try, the harder it becomes. The farther I spin out of control. I’m going over the edge.

Fuckfuckfuck...

Suddenly remembering what Sloane told me about the stash of Atomic Warheads she keeps in her nightstand, I stumble my way around the side of the bed, practically lunging at the drawer-pull in my hurry to get it open. Fingers hooked around it, I jerk it open so hard it comes loose, the contents of it flying everywhere. More than a few Atomic Warheads land on the bed beside me. Snatching them up, I shove three or four of them into my mouth, not even bothering to unwrap them before biting down as hardas I can, grinding them between my teeth to tear the cellophane and pulverize the candy inside. The sting of citric acid that hits my tongue and coats the inside of my mouth is so strong that my sinuses start to burn and my eyes begin to water.

But it works.

The stinging burn of it grabs me by the throat and shoves me back into my body. Grounds me in an instant. Clears my head enough to let me see through the fog. Spitting the chewed-up wrappers into my hand I dump them on the nightstand.

Think, goddamn it—think.

Sloane’s phone.

I shared her location with mine when I added my number to her phone. Something I didn’t bother to tell her because like breaking into her place and installing cameras without her permission, it was a creepy stalker move I wasn’t exactly proud of.

Right now, I don’t give a fuck.

Hand still shaking but steady enough, I punch at my cell screen until I find Sloane’s phone location on the app.

They’re just getting ready to cross the east bridge, traveling south. Heading straight for me.

Ethan is bringing them back here.

“ETHAN.”

I say his name carefully, gaze flicking between his face and River’s. Trying to give myself time to process what the hell is happening.

Ethan isn’t at home, sleeping like he should be. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t look like he’s slept at all. He looks crazed. Slightly disheveled like he’s been up for days. The way he’s looking at me hammers a cold spike of fear down the length of my spine. His eyes are flat. Lifeless like a shark’s. Have they always looked like that? Was I that oblivious to who and what Ethan really is that I just didn’t see it? If there were any lingering doubts about the validity of what Jensen told me last night about the things his brother has done—what he’s truly capable of—there aren’t anymore. The man I’m looking at is capable of anything.

“What are you doing?” Stupid question. He has a gun shoved into River’s ribcage. What he’s doing is prettyobvious but I need time. Shift change isn’t for another three and a half hours which means this level of the parking garage is pretty much a ghost town until noon. Unless someone needs to run to their car for something or gets clearance to cut out early, I’m on my own. My only hope is that a security guard will see what’s happening on one of the surveillance cameras and call Colt. The longer we stand here, the more likely that is to happen.

“What am I doing?” Ethan grins at me like a loon, his too white smile, taunting me from over River’s shoulder. “What the fuck does it look like I’m doing, Sloane?”

“It looks like you’ve completely lost your fucking mind,” I say, answering him honestly. “There are cameras all over the?—”

“Disabled,” he tells me, his grin sharpening slightly. “It’s amazing what you can get done with money and the Craig’s List app.”

“You hired someone to disable the cameras?” I curb the urge to look around, instead focusing on River. She’s shaking. Her face pale. She’s scared. Hopefully not scared enough to fall apart. “Was it the same guy you hired to slash Jensen’s back?”

“Nope. Completely different skill set. The guy I hired to do my brother was supposed to slit his throat but he got nervous. Too many witnesses for his liking.” Wrapping his hand around River’s ponytail, he gives it a hard jerk. “Drop your phone on the ground.”

River’s eyes widen, her frightening gaze aimed in my direction. I give her a nod, telling her to do what he says. Ethan is completely off the rails. It wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge. When she hesitates, Ethan givesher hair another hard jerk. “Better listen to your friend,” he hisses in her ear. “She’s trying to save your life.”

River drops her phone where it lands in the puddle of iced coffee at her feet with an anemic splash.

“Good girl,” Ethan says before kicking it away, sending it skittering across the parking garage floor and under a car about twenty feet away. Sliding the barrel of the gun from her side to the small of her back, Ethan prods her with it. “Now, move.”

Watching them close the distance between us, I feel fear flutter in my gut. “Just let her go, Ethan,” I tell him, fighting to keep my tone steady. “She’s not important. She’s just?—”

“A waitress?” Ethan shoots me another cruel smile. “That’s funny—that’s exactly what Jensen said when I asked him about her a few days ago.She’s just a waitress who needed a ride in for her shift.” Stopping in front of me, he shakes his head. “But she’s the one who picked him up yesterday and then she never left. I don’t thinkjust a waitresswould have sleepover privileges, do you?” Before I can answer him, Ethan stops in front of me. “Where’syourphone?”

My phone is stuck in a mesh pocket sewn into the inside waistband of my scrub pants. It’s where we’re supposed to keep our pagers when we’re in a surgical suite. I put it there out of habit when we got here.

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