Page 3 of Betrayed
I don’t think. I move.
“Cass!” My voice is high, too sharp, cutting through the silence like a scream.
She’s on the floor of the kitchen, curled around herself, a hand pressed to her side. Blood seeps through her shirt, but it’s not enough to pool on the tile floor beneath her, not like before.
But enough to make my heart race.
I drop to my knees, sliding across cold tile. “Oh my God—Cass, what happened?”
She tries to smile, gritting her teeth. “Not as bad as it looks. Just a warning.”
“A warning?” I rip her shirt up to see the gash. It’s deep but not life-threatening. My fingers tremble as I reach for a towel.
“Yeah.”
“From them?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“Tis but a flesh wound,” she gives a tight laugh.
Only Cass would be quoting Monty Python after such a terrifying incident.
“Was it Valentino?”
“No.” Cass shakes her head. “It wasn’t Val. It wasn’t anyone I’ve met.”
“Coward. Coming after a woman home alone.”
“Legless woman no less.”
I manage a smile for her. “You have legs. And very sexy ones.”
“Used to be my best physical attribute,” she gives a dramatic sigh. “When they worked.”
“No way. That was always your boobs. Still is.”
She laughs. “That’s because compared to you, I’m Dolly Parton.”
I press the towel against her wound as gently as I can. Still, she flinches and I wince with her. “Did you call Bambi?”
“No way. Like I told you when we moved, I’m not going to ask her for anything else. She already let the three of us live with her for free and let us royally piss off her brother. As shitty as Valentino is, I don’t want to come between siblings.”
We’re quiet for a moment, both lost in our worries. I tend to her wound as gently as I can. Finally, I ask the question I dread the answer to. “What did he say?”
“He said we’re at the end of the line. You have five days left. You give them what they’re after or—” Finally, the stress is too much. Her hard exterior breaks, her shoulders racked with sobs.
My entire body goes still. “Or what?”
“They’ll escort Caleb here. Personally.”
Terror settles in my gut.
“I have to end this,” I whisper. “I have to end it before they take everything.”
My words trail off, my thoughts going to the fob resting in my coat pocket.
I’ve been shielding my sister from as much as I can, knowing the last thing she needs is more worry. When we lived with Bambi, I’d sometimes see them whispering, their conversation ending as soon as I walked in the room.
I have no idea how much she knows.
