Page 126 of Crossed
The urge to drop everything and hunt Parker down like a madman is burning through my veins, but I pause when I reach the threshold and see the door is already ajar.
My stomach flips, hackles raising as I push it open, glancing from side to side.
It’s dark, not a single light on in the place, but the air is heavy and tense.
There’s someone here.
The door closes behind me, but it doesn’t latch, and I finger the knob, noticing it’s slightly off its center, as though someone broke in and tried to cover it up.
My monster stretches his arms, rumbling in my chest.
“You made it.”
The corner of my mouth tilts as I raise my head slowly, flipping around and coming face- to- face with the man I’m on a mission to find.
“Hello, Parker.”
He’s sitting in the darkened kitchen, his leg crossed over his knee as he leans back in a chair at the dining room table, a gun perched in front of him, next to the white china settings like he’s just waiting to shoot me.
I shake my head slightly at his confidence.
“Dinos!”
My body swings to the side, relief filling up my chest like helium balloons when I see Quinten unharmed and at least moderately unfazed, sitting in the corner on the floor, his rainbow light- up headphones flashing blue to green to red on his head.
Apparently Parker has a soft spot for children that he lacks for women. Or he’s holding him as bait and knows if he’s damaged goods, he won’t be as valuable. Either way, I’m thankful.
“Bonjour, mon petit,” I coo, flashing Quinten a smile, my eyes scanning his body to ensure he’s in one piece. “Parker.” I keep my eyes on Quinten. “Let me take the boy away.”
Parker chuckles. “I think it will build his character.”
I smile. “Undoubtedly.” I take a step toward him, my fingers flexing against the leather of my gloves. “But he’ll also have nightmares from what he sees you do.”
Parker’s eyes darken, and I side- eye Quinten, noting the way his eyes are down on his iPad, ignoring us completely again. I’ve never been more thankful for his propensity for learning apps and headphones as I am at this moment.
“Have you come to kill me, Parker?” I ask, nodding to the gun in front of him.
He shrugs, leaning back in the chair, relaxed, as though he thinks he’s already won.
“That depends on what you’ve done with mywife.”
I grin. “Which time?”
He jerks forward, his palm slamming against the table until the dishes shake. “Youmotherfucker,” he spits. “I want yougone. You will tell Bishop Lamont you’re leaving, or I swear to that mythical figure you pray to that I’ll blow your brains out all over this kitchen floor.”
Nodding, I place my hands out in front of me, trying to appear as though he’s frightened me. “Calm down, Parker.” I glance toward the gun. “You’re the one with power here. Just let me take the boy away, and I’ll do whatever you wish.” I look back to Quinten. “At least to the bedroom.”
Parker’s jaw tenses as he glances back and forth between us.
“You’ve already won,” I state, sighing and hanging my head in shame. “What more could I possibly do?”
He hesitates for just a moment, and then he jerks to a stand, reaching for his gun.
But I am much larger and leaner than him, my arms eating up the space before he can, grabbing the weapon out from under him with one hand and gripping his throat with the other, hauling his body across the table and slamming him down in the middle until the wood cracks and the china shakes.
He starts flailing like a dog on his back, and my eyes flit to Quinten again, who is staring at us with wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth.
I tighten my grip on Parker’s throat.
