Page 56 of Psycho

I was slow to return to the house and inform Declan of what happened. I didn’t tell him about the D. Briggs thing, because I didn’t know what to think about that. Declan and I sat on the couch, his arm around me, and I let him process everything I’d said.

Finally, Declan said, “It’s good he’s going.”

“I know,” I spoke sadly. “I just…I wish we never got to this point.”

We grew quiet, and time passed us by. We sat near each other, cuddling, not doing anything more. Now wasn’t the time to get frisky. I felt too torn, too saddened. It was honestly because I felt so awful about it that I didn’t even think twice when I heard the front door open.

They’d left maybe an hour ago, and my first thought was: he changed his mind. He came back. Or he forgot something.

And then, when neither Declan or I got up, because we were so out of it and he was the last person on my mind, when we saw who it was, my stomach dropped even more.

Ray Ruiz was making his move today, here and now.

And he had a gun pointed right at us.

Chapter Twenty-Seven – Ash

“Ray,” I spoke, getting to my feet. Declan did the same, and he tried to step in front of me, which was stupid. If there was one person here Ray would shoot, it’d be Declan, not me. How the hell did he even get a gun? And why was I so wound up in Sawyer leaving that I forgot to lock the front door?

Not like it would’ve kept him out forever, but, you know, a bit longer.

In times like this, a bit longer might have meant the difference between life and death.

“If you shoot him,” I warned from behind Declan’s back, “I’m going to kill you.”

“Relax, amorcito,” Ray spoke confidently, far more confidently than he should, “I’m not going to shoot your boyfriend. You are.”

My heart nearly stopped at that, and Declan tensed in front of me. I sidestepped him, shooting Ray a glare. He stood fifteen feet away, too far to tackle, too far to lunge at. “What?”

“Either you shoot him, or I will, and I don’t think you’d like where I’d aim.”

“You give me that gun, I’ll shoot you instead,” I said, sounding not nearly half as confident as he did.

“Come here, Ash, and call my bluff.” Ray stood tall, his tanned face lined with stubble. Guns were so not his thing, knives and strangulation were, but he seemed comfortable holding onto the pistol. What type of pistol it was, I wasn’t sure. “If you don’t, I’ll shoot him anyways.”

Well, that much was true. There was no point in denying it.

I met eyes with Declan before slowly moving across the living room towards Ray. Once I was close enough, he flipped the pistol and handed it to me. It felt…lighter than I thought it would. I’d never held a gun before, but I always imagined them being heavier. The grip was warm from where he held it.

“Ash,” Declan warned me, but he didn’t need to. I knew this was playing with fire. This, no matter what I did next, wasn’t going to end well.

To be fair, I told Ray if I had the gun, I’d shoot him instead.

I aimed the pistol at Ray’s chest, and before I could think better of it or even prepare my body for the kickback, I pulled the trigger.

A blank, empty sound echoed from the gun, and it was only then that I realized the gun was fake. A fucking toy. And me, stupid fucking me, fell for it. So did Declan, but I was going to take the blame here, because what happened next—totally my fault.

Ray had a real gun hidden in the waistband of his pants, and he pulled it out, a long, slick-looking revolver that had six barrels. Six bullets would be two more than he needed to kill all four guys in my life. A look of disappointment crossed his handsome face. “Ah, mi amor, wrong choice.” His thumb clicked down the safety, and just by hearing the sound of metal on metal, I knew that gun was the real deal.

I dropped the toy.

“If you shoot him, you better shoot me,” I said, bold in the face of death.

Ray reached into his pocket, pulling out handcuffs. With his free hand, he tossed them to Declan, who simply let them fall to the floor. “On your hands and knees, or I will shoot.” He pressed the cold round tip of the revolver against my forehead.

That was all the incentive Declan needed. Declan lowered himself to the floor, reaching for the handcuffs.

“Your left wrist,” Ray instructed, and Declan clicked it on, though he shot Ray a puffed-up glare. “Ah.” He stopped Declan before doing the other. “Ash will do the other, behind your back.” He pushed me slightly, keeping the gun firmly pointed at me.

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