Page 129 of Raise Hell

I take an involuntary step back, mostly out of surprise. He steps inside the apartment and slams the door shut behind him.

It’s only then that I notice the gun in his hand.

I’m already running for my bedroom before my brain finishes consciously processing that I’m in danger. But I’m not fast enough. He catches the door before I can close it in his face.

We wrestle with it, but my strength is no match for his.

He shoves the door open hard enough that I have to jump back so my fingers don’t get trapped as it hits the wall.

I stumble over a pile of laundry as I back away from him. Steeling my nerves, I force myself to ignore the gun and look him in the eye.

“What are you doing here, Vaughn?”

“I want to know who the fuck you are.” He raises the gun and points it at me. “Because you aren’t Olivia.”

“You need to calm down, because you sound crazy.” I hold my hands up in front of me. My mind whirls as I try to figure out how the hell I’m getting out of this. “Who else would I be?”

“I know Olivia.” His voice breaks, but the hand holding the gun stays steady. “You aren’t her.”

“I’ve changed—”

“You aren’t her! I know her. She would never parade herself around with another guy, especially not Drake fucking Van Koch. How does he manage to get everything, while I’m left with nothing? It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. She would never choose him.”

His rambling is practically incoherent. But there is a thread in there that I know I need to pick up, if I can just figure out what it is.

But right now, I need to keep him talking and his finger off the trigger.

“A lot of what happened last year is a blur, brain damage can do that,” I lie. “Why don’t you tell me what it is I’m supposed to know?”

He makes a growl of frustration. “Stop trying to trick me. I know you’re not her. I’ve known from the moment you hooked up with Drake. Olivia would never do that, not with him.”

My foot moves ever so slightly forward. If I can get close enough, I might be able to snatch the gun away from him. “You don’t want to do this, Vaughn. The only place you’ll end up is a jail cell.”

“I’m a Havoc Boy. The rules don’t apply to us.”

“They do when it comes to murder in the first degree.”

His eyes narrow on my face. “Havoc House has gotten away with worse.”

I believe him.

But I’ve messed this up enough for my sister. I’m not sending this crazy fuck in her direction.

“I’m Olivia Pratt,” I insist, voice rising as the gun barrel swings wildly in his hand. “Do you need to see my driver’s license?”

He raises the gun and points it at my chest. “Tell me who you really are. Last chance before your brains end up splattered on the wall. I’ll give you to the count of three.”

Vaughn looks crazy enough to do it.

“Three.”

If he shoots me right now, there is no way he’ll get away with it. But I don’t think the fear of prison is enough to stop him.

“Two.”

The world narrows until all I can see is the barrel of the gun staring me down. I wonder if it hurts to get shot in the head. Is it already over before your brain realizes what just happened?

“One.”

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