Page 25 of Frenemies

“I don’t want your fucking food,” I grumbled while pulling the blanket over my shoulders.

What I wanted was to get the fuck out of here. Find some more Reapers to fuck up and maybe snort a line.

“You need to eat, Chase.”

“I’ll eat when you let me out of here.”

Derek crossed his arms and huffed. “That’s not gonna happen, so you may as eat a sandwich.”

“Fine.”

I’d choke down his crappy sandwich if it got him to leave me alone for a few minutes.

He walked away as I jumped up and tossed the blanket off my now sweating shoulders. “And fix the fucking heat while you’re up there.”

I used my few moments of peace to splash some cold water on my face. A thought occurred to me when I braced my palms on the edge of the sink. If Derek wanted to bring me food, he’d have to come in here.

I stood there watching drops slide off my chin into the pool of water below. Each ticking tap drew me closer to the one thing I left unfinished in Ashen Springs.

Tap.

He abandoned his sister.

Tap.

She might be alive if he opened the letter.

Tap.

He needs to pay.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, mingling with the voices in my head. When I heard a soft click followed by the grating echo of metal sliding along the cement, the corner of my mouth lifted.

Here lies Derek Adams. The dumb shit walked himself right into the grave.

“Alright, you have a choice between ham and–”

I had my hand around his neck and slammed him back against the wall before he could finish speaking. The tray in his hand went flying and clattered on the ground somewhere behind us.

I didn’t give a fuck about any of that. I didn’t even care about the way his eyes widened because I finally had the prick right where I wanted him.

“You really are a fucking moron.” Who needed drugs? The adrenaline coursing through my veins sent me on enough of a high.

Derek wasn’t a small man, but he still had to lift his chin to bring his eyes up to mine. “I wouldn’t say that.”

That’s when I heard the click and felt the barrel of a gun press against my abdomen.

Touché, Sheriff.

Still, it wasn’t enough to make me let go of his throat. I was enjoying the way his pulse thrummed against my fingers far too much for that. I’d like it even more when I squeezed that pulse into silence.

“You think that’s going to stop me?” I asked while glancing down at the 9mm in his hand.

Wouldn’t be the first time I got shot. Hell, it wouldn’t be the worst place I got shot.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Derek didn’t so much as flinch, which just pissed me off more. How the fuck could he be so calm? Prick knew I wanted to kill him—he had to.

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