So what then? I get to stand back and watch Marcus shred her apart?
Not a fucking chance.
But I don’t get a say in the matter, because when Marcus hears Indi getting closer, he turns and pistol whips her on the side of the head.
I’m two steps closer before he swings back me, Indi crashing to the floor in the background with a yelp of pain that goes through me like an ephemeral whip crack.
“Stop,” Marcus says with a shake of his head. “Just stop.”
I lift my hands, and do as he says. Behind him, Indi groans and rolls onto her side. Looks as is if she’s trying to push herself up, but judging from the trickle of blood running down her face, Marcus got in a solid blow.
“I had such fun shit planned for us,” Marcus says. My gaze flashes back to him, my mouth thinning into a grim line.
Honest to God, he looks disappointed. Head shaking, his eyes sad. “I was gonna let you have her first, bro. To make up for Jess.”
God, I want to charge him so bad. But I have no doubt in my mind that he’ll fire. He had no issues torturing Indi’s mother and then strangling her to death — what’s a bullet between friends?
“Well, maybe some of this is still—” Marcus waves the gun around Indi’s burned-out house “—salvageable.”
Doubt it. The living room’s completely caved in. There is a flight of stairs that look dodgy as shit, and only a quarter of the first floor remains.
I’m pretty sure if this place weren’t a crime scene, it would have been condemned.
“Help her up,” Marcus says, stepping back and using the gun to wave at Indi. “Come on.”
I go over to her, crouch, help her to her feet. She resists until she sees my face and realizes it’s me. As I straighten, a shape on the floor catches my eye. I grab Indi and turn her to face Marcus, forcing a hard swallow.
I only saw the back of her, but I know it was Addy. She could have been sleeping, I guess, but no one goes to sleep naked on a singed carpet. Not with their legs that wide. Not with a belt around her neck. And I doubt Indi’s seen her — Marcus left her partially hidden behind the blackened lumps of a sofa.
“I have your money,” I say, and then cock my head toward the car. “Double what you wanted.”
Marcus gives me a cold smile. “You know what? I’ve had a lot of time to think the past few days.” He taps the barrel of the gun against his head. “’Bout you. About me.” He points the gun at Indi, and she flinches into me. “About her.”
I slide my arms around Indi, holding her tight. She must be terrified, but she’s not even shaking. Then again, he has had her for more than five hours. I suppose at some point the fear simmers down.
“And?” I prompt.
Marcus shrugs. “I wanted to disappear.” He purses his lips and looks away for a moment. “Thought the money could help me get out, you know. Then I wouldn’t have to work with my dad.”
Eyes the color of night settle on Indi. His cold smile inches up. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I do love it, bro.”
Marcus’s words come back to me then. We were in the pub, talking about his father. About the dodgy shit his dad made him do.
I keep going back and forth — hating it, loving it, hating it.
What if I stop hating it?
“And no one’s caught me yet.” Marcus shrugs again, and his smile widens enough for me to see his teeth. “So why the fuck should I stop?”