Page 13 of Better Watch Out

“They were small. I got her treats, too.” Boone gets up, as if offended, and walks over to plop down in front of Sitka. She barely stirs, except to do her best imitation of a dead cockroachto entice Boone to rub her belly. It works, because he’s definitely a sucker for animals, and all I can do is glare at him and wish my dog had better taste in people.

For a few moments, I just stare at him as he shows my dog a tenderness I never knew he possessed for anyone other than Fletch. Sneaking a look at the blond, however, shows that his eyes are on me, and it makes a shiver travel down my spine.

I can’t look at him for long.

“Why do you guys have pictures of the people who were murdered here last year?” I ask, folding and unfolding my fingers from around the bottle.

“Why do you think we have them?” Fletcher is quick to ask in reply. “Howwouldwe have them except for the obvious reason, hmm?” I don’t expect the easy admission of guilt, and I can’t help but shudder.

“There’s something wrong with you both,” I murmur. “I mean, I’ve always known that, I guess.” From the corner of my eye I watch him sit down beside me, and I shift away from him just as his hand comes out to grip my thigh, holding me in place.

“Oh, yeah?” He shouldn’t sound so fucking amused. “There’s something wrong withus?”

“Yeah. It’s been pretty clear since…” I trail off, not wanting to voice my reasons. It’s not like they don’t know them, but when I catch sight of Fletcher’s face, I realize he’s going to make me do it anyway.

He’s going to make me admit it. But I’m not here to play their game. I’d rather not be hereat all,but apparently that’s not going my way tonight.

“Since you locked me in the damn shed and I got frostbite,” I snap in reply, shoving up the sleeve of my hoodie and holding out my hand to display the faded scar on my right pinkie and ring finger. I’ve unfortunately always been prone to scarringeasily, and when Fletcher’s eyes fall on the pinkish mottling still present on my hand, I expect him to grin or look unaffected.

I don’t expect him to frown and reach out to me, his hand warm as he cradles my fingers in his palm. “We were young and stupid. We didn’t think…” He sighs, and looks balefully up at me. “Also, that’s not what you were going to say and we both know it.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say. You don’t know anything about me,” I retort. My skin prickles where it touches his, and when I try to snatch my hand away, he’s too quick for me. His fingers wrap around mine, keeping me in his grip.

“Well.” Boone sings the word, thumping down behind me on the couch. I try to jerk away from him as well, but between the two of them, there’s not really anywhere for me to go. He rests his head on my shoulder, looking up at me with those puppy-dog eyes that always worked too well on Cheryl when the two of them were close to getting in trouble for something they’d done.

Usually somethingBoonedid that Fletcher had to go wrestle him out of.

“That’s not totally true. You might not have wanted to see us over the past few years, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t come to check up on you. I thought you were going to get the golden retriever at the shelter that day, actually.” His words, and the accuracy of them, send a shiver crawling up my spine as I look at Boone with shock on my face.

“You’ve beenstalkingme?” I can’t help but murmur. My heart pounds in my chest, slamming into my ribs almost painfully as I try again to jerk out of Fletcher’s hold.

“Checking up on you,” the blond corrects. “We were worried about you, especially since you left so suddenly and you were all alone.” He grabs my other hand to keep me in place, both of them forming an effective cage around me.

But Iwon’tplay their game.

“Fuck you both.” I jerk my arms in Fletcher’s grip. “I know what you’re doing. We’ve done this before and I’m sick of it. We’re not kids anymore, and I’m not going to let you push me around. You’re not going to make me cry and run to Dad, or lock myself in my room. And well.” I snarl out an unfriendly laugh. “I don’t have a boyfriend for you to beat the shit out of this time. I know what you want and Iwill not give it to you this time. Do you both fucking hear me?” Hopefully, if I can make it seem like they don’t still scare me, they’ll give up on this game and just go away. Or at least go fuck each other in their room for as long as I’m stuck here.

They’re quiet for a few seconds—which for Boone is a feat in itself—then Boone giggles, pressing his face into my shoulder like we’re sharing some joke. But…I don’t see what’s funny.

I don’t see what could be funny in this situation, and that in itself is terrifying.

“That’s what you think?” He snickers against my shoulder. “You think we want to…to lock you in a shed again or make you cry or make you run toDaddy? Of course you don’t have a boyfriend, snow bunny.” He moves to peer up at me, his grin growing wide on his full lips. “We never would’ve let that happen.”

A tremor runs through me at the threat and my mouth falls open, words dying on my tongue. I don’t know how to reply to that. I haveno ideawhat to say in the face of that kind of malicious honesty.

“Fuck you both,” I sneer finally. “Justfuck you.”

“Yeah, Conor.” Fletcher’s hand leaves my wrist, and when I turn to face him fully, he cups my jaw in his hand. “That’s absolutely the idea. Though I will admit.” His smile turns cruel around the edges. “I don’t mind the idea of you on your knees crying, with your lips wrapped around my?—”

This time when I go to hit him, Boone sees it coming. He grabs my free hand, jerking it behind my back hard enough to drag a pained gasp from my throat. “No, no, don’t hit,” he coos in my ear. “Don’t mess up his pretty face. We both know he doesn’t bruise well.”

“Let go of me.” I’m trying so hard not to engage, even as Fletcher’s words twist in my stomach. Again I try to jerk free of them, acutely aware of how Fletcher’s hand shifts so he can wrap his fingers lightly around my throat.

“Nah,” the blond purrs. “We like you right where you are. But if it’ll make you feel better…” He leans in close, until his lips are millimeters from mine. “You can go ahead and cry.” I don’t get a chance to respond. Not when his lips slide against mine, warm and softer than they should be.

Fuck, I always knew Fletcher would be an amazing kisser. But I still struggle in their grip, squirming between them until Boone growls and bites down on the junction of my neck and shoulder. I open my mouth in a yelp and Fletcher takes advantage, licking into my mouth as he uses his grip on my throat to push me back into Boone.

I really am trapped between them.

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