Page 84 of Choices

“Where is he?” Cutter demands. “What’s the location you picked her up from?”

“Put the knife down and chill out for a second. We need to be smart.”

I pull out of Callan’s hold, my eyes moving to Cutter. He looks manic, a blade clasped in his grip. Walking the couple of steps to him, I caress my hand down his arm and wrap my palm around his, taking the hilt of the knife. Gently tugging it away, I grasp his cheek with my other hand, forcing him to look at me.

“I’m okay,” I breathe into him. Pain etches into his features, blazing in the depths of his eyes. “I’m okay.”

"Kit," Callan frowns over at me. "How did things turn bad with you and Michael?"

Closing the space between us, he assesses me, looking over every inch of me. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Thud.

Gulping, his eyes crease, "did he...?"

"No." I shake my head firmly. "It wasn't that."

"Then what was it?"

"Why were you asking about Nicolas?" Cutter butts in, his brow crashing.

Shit.

"I fucked up," I admit, worrying my lip with my teeth.

"How did you fuck up?" Callan asks.

Dropping my focus to my feet, I squeeze my hands into painful fists, "I mentioned Nicolas coming here that night."

"Fuck." Callan and Cutter say in unison—the word slicing through the air like a blade.

“We need to wake Pres,” Callan informs us, pacing the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, Callan. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know.” A sob hiccups from my chest.

Jabbing a finger in my direction, he says, “You need to tell me everything that was said. Word for fucking word. Don’t leave anything out.”

My head bobs up and down manically.

Heavy footfalls pound outside the kitchen door drawing our attention. Grease’s hulking frame fills the entire width of the door. Breathing heavily, a slash across his brow, he says, “There are people at the gate.”

The incoming tide envelops me, consuming every inch of my body. A deep sense of dread fills my veins, hardening like ice.

“Who?” Callan asks.

Thud—thud—thud.

“The Carnells.”

CHAPTER 25

HANDS OFF

CUTTER

Memories churn inside me like a choppy ocean, surging and punishing. Hitting Nicolas with the pool ball and seeing the life leave his body as he crashed to the floor created a domino effect. That one stupid moment fucked up my life—and Kit’s.

“Listen really carefully.” Callan braces his hands on Kitty’s shoulders, and her eyes flutter up to his. “Tell me exactly what you said to Michael about Nicolas.”

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