Page 140 of Wasted
“Stop right there.” Warren’s command grated like nails on a chalkboard, but Cillian halted with Victoria, immediately spinning toward the punk. No way was he going to let Warren shoot them in the back. He wasn’t going to let the kid shoot Victoria at all. No matter what he had to do.
Maybe he could start by finding out more of what Warren had in mind. “What’s your plan, Warren? If you shoot us, everyone will know we were murdered.”
Victoria tensed beside Cillian. Was she scared?
His arm twitched with the urge to wrap around her. But Warren probably wouldn’t like that. And Victoria might not either, given their last conversation.
“They’re going to think you got into an accident.”
Cillian stared incredulously at the kid through falling snowflakes. Maybe he’d lost his mind. “An accident? With bullets?”
Warren pushed shaking fingers through his short hair. “I’m not gonna shoot you. I’m just gonna leave you here. Everyone knows you ride that thing in the winter.” The hand holding the gun swung toward the punk’s left, like he was gesturing toward something.
Cillian peered through the snow. Nothing but the side of the road. Maybe. Hard to tell where the road started and ended when everything was white.
Not everything.
A large, dark object caught his attention. Looked like something a little lower down than the road. In the ditch?
He risked taking a step toward it, the angle of his body showing Warren he wasn’t headed for him.
His bike. Cillian’s motorcycle lay on its side, half-buried in the snow. He pivoted to Warren. “You brought my bike out here?”
“Wasn’t hard with this company van and the ramp.”
Of course. The van must belong to Warren’s employer. The kid had a more strategic mind than Cillian would’ve guessed.
“When they find you, the cops will think you were both riding, and you lost control in the snow. Then you froze out here.”
Cillian shot a glance at Victoria.
She looked half-frozen already, her arms wrapped around herself and her lips turning blue.
His ribs pinched. He had to get her out of here. “Come on, man. You don’t want to do this to Victoria. She’s been so nice to your sister. She’s taken her in. Sydney depends on her. What are you going to tell Sydney if you hurt Victoria?”
“She won’t find out.”
“She knows you, man. She’ll figure it out.”
“Then she’ll understand. I’ll tell her the truth. That you made me do this.”
“I’m not the one holding the gun, Warren.”
“Not you. Her.” The kid veered the weapon slightly more toward Victoria. His eyes narrowed. “It’s all your fault. You were the one to make the police think it was a murder. And then you kept trying to figure out who did it.”
“The cops would’ve done that anyway, Warren.” Cillian tried to draw the teen’s growing intensity away from Victoria.
“No, they wouldn’t.” The punk kept his focus locked on her as frustration pitched his voice higher. “They didn’t have a clue. I kept trying to scare you off, but you wouldn’t stop. If you’d just gone along with things and let it go, if you’d just backed off, I wouldn’t have to kill you.”
Oh, man. None of that had been Victoria’s choice. Cillian had pushed her to stay on McCully. He’d persuaded her to follow up leads, tail suspects, keep forcing the police to investigate.
If he hadn’t done that, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Victoria never would’ve become Warren’s target. Wouldn’t have nearly been killed by him shooting at her and trying to run her over.
Wouldn’t be here, about to?—
“Oh, and don’t bother trying to get your bike running. I took enough parts out to make sure it can’t be fixed.”
“Don’t do this, kid. They’ll figure out it was you. It’ll ruin your life.”
