Page 196 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

How did I end up here, stuck in a car with two psychopaths?

“Do you think I’m stupid? I let you go, and you’ll go straight to the police. Like it or not, superstar, you’re a part of this, too.”

Brody lowers the gun from my head long enough to pull out a ski mask and another gun from the glove compartment.

Then he hands the spare gun over to Dean.

Brody throws the mask on, the material concealing his identity. “Give me your phones.”

We don’t move or react for a few seconds.

“I said give me your fucking phones! Now!” Brody snaps, pointing the gun at Scar and Axel.

The weapon kicks us into high gear, and we practically throw our phones at him. Brody proceeds to shove all three of our phones into the back pockets of his jeans.

He points to us with a flick of his chin and tells Dean, “You take care of them. I’m going in.”

“Copy that,” Dean says. “Get the money, too.”

Brody pulls a large black gym bag from underneath the passenger seat and scoffs. “I always do.”

Holy shit…

This isn’t a first-time thing for them, is it?

They do this often.

Jesus, is that why Brody laughed when Dean said he uses the van for his “job”?

They’re fucking robbers.

I bet they steal all sorts of shit together. I know Brody’s dad refuses to give his sons a penny, hell-bent on teaching his kids how to make their own money, but Christ, I never thought Brody would break the fucking law to get some.

I meet Scar’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and he gives a small nod. I immediately know he’s up to something. I think I see him mouth the word wait, but I’m too busy imagining all the ways things could go horribly wrong to be certain.

Once Brody’s out of the car, it’ll just be Dean.

That’s three against one.

My best guess is Scar is going to try to disarm him.

If we’re lucky, we’ll knock him out and go get help.

But if we’re not…

It’s curtains for Scar.

I have no idea how far Dean is willing to go. From the looks of things, he and Brody are just low-grade robbers, hitting a few stores here and there. Maybe some vacation homes. Odds are they’re all talk and wouldn’t ever pull the trigger.

The question is: am I willing to bet Scar’s life on that?

I inhale a sharp breath when Brody casts a final glance at his accomplice, the vicious smile stretching across his lips chilling me to the bone, and climbs out of the car through the passenger-side door. I watch him make his way to the entrance of the store and disappear inside.

Fuck.

Gray.

I don’t even have time to worry about him because Scar’s launching himself at Dean before I can make sense of what’s happening. Dean falls onto his back, and Scar jumps at the opportunity to clock him in the face.

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