Page 89 of Look My Way
“You’re sick,” I say. “Did you ever really love him? Was this your plan all along?”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “No . . . I didn’t think I’d lose him to you either. But it’s funny how things work out, huh? And here I didn’t think it was possible to hate you more than I already did.”
“What do you want?”
“You to suffer like I did. You to be the one no one cares about and left in a dark place, rotting.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, you deranged lunatic? You followed us to Liam’s sister’s house, didn’t you? You made him think he was having nightmares and hallucinating again, didn’t you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” He tilts his head, smiling the way a crazy motherfucker like him does.
“Sure you did. It’s something you’ve been doing to him for too long. You deserve to be in those handcuffs. Not me.”
“Maybe, but it won’t be me. No one will believe you. Not with Liam dead and no evidence to prove what you’re saying is accurate.”
“I won’t let you get away with this.”
“Oh, but you’re only one against two, so I beg to differ.” Another voice comes from behind me, the safety button clicking. “Drop the gun, you worthless sack of shit.”
My gun hits the floor, knocking against my foot, and Jared steps around me to bend down to retrieve it. I elbow him in the face, knocking him to the ground, and I grab the gun, dodging the bullets coming my way. I scream when one hits my leg and limp forward, bulldozing into Daniel so hard he loses his grip on his weapon. He tumbles backward and I aim my gun at Jaredfirst, taking him down with a gunshot to the head before turning my attention back to the main guy I want to hear begging for mercy.
There won’t be any for him, though. Not from me. He laughs, looking up at me and shaking his head. “You think you’re getting out of this, don’t you? Liam is still passed out and you just killed a cop. I got you right where I want you.”
Sirens blare in the background and he laughs harder. “You think they’ll believe you with all the evidence you’re holding in your house. Everything I planted there?”
“Don’t worry about me when you’re the one with a gun pointed to your head. Liam will get up eventually, and the guy downstairs is sure to talk.”
“Yes, but he’ll only say it was a man in a black mask. One I know you’ve used before. You got the tag off the car, but you didn’t notice the camera I planted.”
“Stop talking. I don’t need to hear anything you have left to say.” My grip tightens on the gun.
“You sure? What about how you were caught sneaking around Liam’s house. Stalking him and waiting for the right moment to take him like you did the others.”
I huff. Love doesn’t blindside you. It got me a different way than Liam and my mom. “How long have you known? Were you watching us all this time?”
“No. I had a feeling, and that’s what made me set up the cameras. Right before you came in and drugged me to do whatever sick fantasy you had planned with him. He was supposed to be mine. But just like her, you took him for yourself. He’s a lot like her too. Is that what drew you in?”
My brows dip. “Who the hell is her?”
He wipes his mouth, leaving a smirk behind. “Our mother. She gave me away and kept you. The note said it was to keep me safefrom our father, but I don’t believe that bullshit. I wasn’t safe. Not with the person she left me with.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” My chest expands, throat tightening. “You’re lying. I’d know if I had a brother.”
“Would you? I guess our dear mother had secrets she was hiding, just like you. Tell me, Zavier . . . when did you plan to let Liam in on your extracurricular activities?”
“Did you—”
“Before I knocked him out again, I told him everything. Even about you putting his editor in the hospital. You really should make sure you’re not being followed when you do something like that.” He clicks his tongue.
“You knew who I was all this time.”
“Yes. I did. I moved next door to the woman you call sister hoping to find a way closer to you. She gave it to me very easily too. Recommending you for work on my fiancé’s garden boxes. You being a carpenter came in handy. So thanks for that.”
My hackles rise. “You’re demented. All this because I got to see our father beat and try to kill our mother while you were taken to a better home.”
He scoffs. “Better home? Ha. Is that what you think I experienced? It was an old, trusted friend of hers, or so she thought. Her husband hated me while she . . . let’s say she loved me in ways a mother shouldn’t love her child.”
Bile rises up my throat. “I’m sorry you went through that, but we all bear childhood trauma. My life wasn’t all roses either, but you don’t see me taking it out on innocent people.”
