Page 35 of Caged Bird

He shook his head.

I shot out of bed like someone had electrocuted me. I was down the stairs and facing off with Eddie within seconds. My chest heaved with the exertion, or perhaps more likely with panic.

If he’d found out…if he knew what I’d done to her in that bedroom last night, while he was downstairs…

She’d be dead.

And I’d be next. A bullet wound in my head. I had no doubt he was keeping that gun close.

In the cold, harsh light of day, and now completely sober, I suddenly realized exactly how reckless I’d been. How dangerous.

“Where’s Fawn?”

Eddie glared at me. “Who fucking cares? Go get dressed. I’ve got guys coming in, and if you’re going to be introduced as my brother and second-in-command, you need to at least pretend like you can handle it.”

I went to protest but then saw an opportunity. “I need a weapon.”

Eddie snorted. “To do what with, Zaney boy? You know nothing about guns, last I remember. You’ll shoot your own fucking hand off.”

“So I’m supposed to run your crew of criminals without a weapon? How am I supposed to do that?”

Eddie sniggered, pushing up onto his feet with a wince of pain. “Not really my problem.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Fawn leaving the laundry room and wrapping a Band-Aid around her index finger.

She hurried into the kitchen and out of sight.

I hoped like hell the cut on her finger was what Otis had meant when he’d said his mom wasn’t okay.

From outside came the roar of an engine and a cloud of dust, kicked up by tires. A truck pulled into the clearing, the four men inside stepping out, the driver taking a cigarette from a packet inside his jacket and lighting up.

Eddie opened the door and pushed me out of it with the nose of his gun. Then shoved it back into the waistband of his pants before any of his guys could notice.

I took the advice and walked over to them.

All four of them paused at my approach, eyeing me with interest. But then they noticed Eddie, and a cheer went up.

“Hey! Here he is! Back from the dead!”

They surrounded him like he was some sort of returning hero and clapped him on the back.

The driver blew out a long stream of smoke. “Got the name and address of the guy who got you. We’re just waiting on you to say the word before we go after him.” He drew a finger across his neck, miming slitting a throat, and the other guys all laughed. “We gonna make him bleed just as much as you did. Just give us the thumbs-up.”

They reminded me of the hyenas in the fuckingLion Kingmovie, all slobbering and falling over themselves to get Scar’s attention. They thought they were these big, tough gangsters, but all I could see was how pathetic they were. How desperate they were, that they would work for someone like my brother, at the risk of both their and their families’ lives.

Eddie jerked his head toward me. “That’s up to Zane. He’s calling the shots while I’m getting back on my feet.”

All four guys swiveled to look in my direction.

The driver huffed. “Who the fuck is he?”

“My brother,” Eddie said, as way of introduction.

It was on the tip of my tongue to add “Unfortunately.” But I bit it back, because being a smart-ass wouldn’t help the situation.

The driver clearly wasn’t impressed, if his expression was anything to go by, but he said nothing, just watched me with narrowed eyes while he took another drag on his cigarette.

I stared him down, not intimidated by his attitude the way he wanted me to be. He was all bravado, his tough-guy act just that. An act. When you’d spent a lifetime with a true psychopath, who didn’t have an ounce of empathy in his body, wannabe gangsters seemed like children in comparison.

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