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Thank shit he didn't take offense to my outburst, nor did he continue with the description.

"Alright, let's move over here to...sorry, man. I didn't get your name." He turned his charisma on Kidnapper number two who was breathing hard, but his cries were silenced.

Instead, he had the nerve to threaten Tyler.

"You're a dead man," he spat.

Gotta hand it to him, he had balls.

Tyler laughed. "Aw, that's cute. Ain't that cute?" He turned his rhetorical question on the rest of us. "I'll forgive your delusion, but I'm not the one tied to a chair, outnumbered by very dangerous men, am I?" His words danced.

As he said that, I was inclined to agree with Terry, which was something I didn't expect myself to say. But he was right. We were pussies. Four men against one. None of us could take him down. Why not? He wasn't invincible.

With my hands already dirty, what was some more dirt? I was still refusing to look at Terry. I wasn't even looking at my arm where splatters of his blood rested like a weight. I didn't want him to be right, the fucker. I contemplated whether or not he was while I hovered over Carter Colombine. I'd learned the bastard's name.

"All of you are dead," he spat. Now, I was inclined to prove him wrong.

Here's the thing. Yes, my knees were wobbling like I was at a wedding, dancing to that V.I.C song. Yes, my stomach was in turmoil. Yes, I'd rather run out of here and let someone else do the dirty work.

So, why haven't I?

Because Tyler threatened us, and we're pussies.

And Terry's right? Or was I still here, because despite being capable of teaming together to take Tyler down, I didn't want to, because then what? Someone would have to get rid of these doofuses. What if they escaped or maneuvered their way out of the system? Got off with a light sentence.

I was here because I wanted to be. That was a terrifying truth to accept. But sometimes, we have to face the fact that we're a part of the problem, and take accountability for our actions. As I sank the knife into Carter Colombine's neck, I did it because I didn't want to give this man the opportunity to come after Lily again. And that made me the same kind of scum that Tyler is. That these men are.

The knife clattered to the grimy metal floor of the container and I stepped away, shaking, aware of what I'd just done, and knowing there was no coming back from this.

I didn't need to see or hear what happened next. My legs took me away from the scene and I followed them to the parked car.

Chapter 34

Tyler

Colombine? As in the Colombine family, who were my rivals back in the day? Ryan did a pretty good job, although the fucker isn't dead yet. Still, there's not much I'm going to get out of him now, with blood gushing from his neck and him puffing on his last breath.

Damn it, my fault.

Now I kinda wished Ryan hadn't stabbed him...yet. I wanted to know what business he had getting involved with an old drunk, kidnapping and blackmailing in North Carolina of all places, for fifty-million dollars, when he was from one of the richest and most infamous crime families.

I'd especially liked to know what he was doing here, in front of me, when I left New York to get away from this shit. Was he seeking me out or was this pure coincidence? Regardless of what it was that led him here, he's dead now. And the old man, disgusting enough to kidnap his own daughter, was already as good as dead getting into bed with a Colombine.

Speaking of, the old fucker's eyes are bloodshot. Ryan was timid when he stabbed him in the face. So he's very much alive and aware as he watches Carter go night-night. He has picked up on the fact that none of us had been playing about killing them. His tears are hidden in the blood leaking from his face.

"Ouch, that's gotta hurt." I regarded him, distracting myself from the questions about Carter swimming around in my head.

The plan was to dump the bodies in the lake and have them 'mysteriously' wash up six months later, to give the poor traumatized women some closure. But with a Colombine involved, that body is going to have to stay hidden in that lake. It can never resurface or be traced back to him. He'd be able to outsmart the police, but not the mob. All they would need to trace it back to me is my location and our history.

"Who's up next?" I turned my gaze toward the ground for the bloodied knife Ryan dropped. I found it pressed up against my neck as Ethan attacked.

Okay, swift. Note to self: Do not lose myself in my thoughts around these men.

"What's the plan here, Ethan?" I rasped as he craned my neck upward with his free hand. "I'm not going to let you guys just walk away, so are you going to kill me? Really? For what? To save these guys? Six of one, half dozen of the other. I'm not your enemy here, they are."

He shoved me away at that.

"Do what your gut is telling you Ethan. Am I really the one you're mad at, or is it them?" I rubbed my throat, impressed when I found that he'd nicked me. "I'm just helping you guys do what you really want to do."

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