Page 72 of Charlie
I elbowed Charles, who finally seemed to wake from his shock.
“Sara, don’t be stupid. Put the gun down.”
“No.” Conor kept staring at Sara but pointed at Charles. “Sara knows what she’s doing. Words mean nothing. Only action does. Don’t say you’re willing to die for someone unless you’re ready to back it up.”
Sara was breathing heavily but she kept her eyes on Conor and lifted the gun to her head with her shaking hands.
“Don’t do it.” I moved to the front of my seat preparing to intervene.
The moment felt like slow motion as I looked around the room hoping someone would stop this madness, but they all sat transfixed by the silent conversation taking place between Conor and Sara.
When I turned back to Sara, her eyes were large and moist while the barrel of the gun was pointing at her right temple and her finger was on the trigger.
“Would you die for me?” Conor’s question was a low mutter meant only for Sara, but we all heard it.
The gun was shaking in her hand and perspiration showed on her forehead. “Yes.”
Conor leaned closer to her. “Show me.”
Sara’s closed her eyes and took a deep breath before there was a click of the gun.
Loud gasps sounded from all of us. And then Conor bent forward, cupped Sara’s face and kissed her on the mouth. When he pulled back, she had tears running down her cheeks.
“That’s what loyalty looks like.” He was holding a finger under her chin, and beamed at her with pride. Taking the gun from her, he put it on the table and pushed it to the center of the table. “Anyone else willing to show me?”
Ciara reached for the gun.
“Careful.” Conor had a sly smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s loaded with a single bullet and Sara just got lucky.”
Ciara pulled the gun toward herself, but with a hand on top of hers, Conor stopped her. “I know you’d die for me just like I’d die for you.” His eyes turned to Charles. “Can you say the same?”
Next to me, Charles, paled and swallowed hard. My heart was speeding and I recognized the acute stinging pain to my scalp from the time I barely missed a car accident and adrenaline rushed through my veins, alerting me to the danger. If this was Conor’s idea of Russian roulette then there was a chance that the gun was loaded.
“Charles?” Conor kept staring at him and pushed the gun closer to our side of the table.
My fingers dug into Charles’ thigh under the table not caring that it might be painful for him. I couldn’t speak my mind freely, but I could show him that he wasn’t alone.
“Where did you get a gun?”
“That’s irrelevant,” Conor said without breaking eye contact with Charles.
The atmosphere was thick and tense as the two men sat looking at each other.
Don’t do it. Don’t do it, I repeated over and over in my head as if Charles would be able to pick up my message.
Charles’ tics were making him bob his shoulders and blink his eyes. “I don’t think I should touch that gun. With my tics I might aim at me, but end up shooting one of you instead.”
Conor’s laughter was like letting out air from a balloon that had been blown up too hard. Looking around the room, he grinned. “Come on, don’t look so shocked. You didn’t think I’d hurt any of you, did you?”
Laughter of relief filled the room as everyone assured him, and each other, that they always knew it was only a playful test.
Charles smiled too while I just sat there like an observer getting a brutal insight into the power Conor held over them.
“Wow, I think I sweated through my shirt. That was intense.” I forced a laugh when all I wanted was to run the hell away from this asylum.
“It was a joke, Liv.” Charles and some of the others laughed as if collectively trying to normalize what had just happened.
Feeling Conor’s eyes on me, I played my part and elbowed Charles. “You should have warned me that the humor in this house is pretty dark.”
