Page 115 of Unorthodox
I backhand him, cutting off his words as his head spins. I see blood in his mouth, and I’m not sure if I did that, or she did that.
She’s whimpering at my back, but I don’t look at her.
“Answer the question,” I tell Zeke calmly, one hand against his chest, the other gripping his face as I turn his head back toward me.
He stares at me a long moment, breathing hard beneath my hand, his mouth open, blood flecked across his chin.
And when he moves, so subtle I might not have noticed save for the sound of a gun cocking back, Addison whispers my name.
Zeke grins at me, blood on his teeth. “Let me go, Max.” He glances behind me, and I hear Addison say my name again, closer this time, like she’s moved toward me. “Or I’ll break her fucking neck when I’m done with you.”
My hand on his jaw is crushing. I see him wince, but otherwise, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t move, because the barrel of his goddamn gun is against my ribs.
“Max,” Addison says, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Max, let him—”
“Shut up, Addison.” The words come out through my gritted teeth, and I feel anger like I haven’t known in a long, long time run through my blood. I want to bash Zeke’s brains in. I want to slit his fucking throat.
I want to put a bullet between his eyes.
But if I move my hands, I won’t have nearly enough time to draw my own gun before he pulls the fucking trigger.
“Max,” Addison says again, and I realize she’s beside me.
She’s fucking beside me.
I turn from Zeke, not letting go of him, and my eyes lock on hers. She has blood on her throat, over her lip, and my hold on Zeke tightens.
“Easy, Max,” he says calmly, the gun still to my ribs.
“Max, it’s okay,” Addison says, and I want to hurt her, too. I want to hurt her because she wasn’t supposed to leave the fucking bar, and she was supposed tolisten, and now I’m going to watch her get dragged out of here by a fuckingkid.
“Let me go, Max. Back off of me.” I hear the impatience in Zeke’s tone, but it isn’t until he moves the gun from my ribs to aim at Addison’s head that I let him go.
I let him go as all the breath leaves my lungs and I take a step back, my hands up as he holds the gun to her temple.
Her face drains of color, but she doesn’t look away from me. She doesn’t scream or cry or move. She just stands motionless. Brave.
Angry.
“That’s a good girl,” Zeke says, and I ball my hands into fists as he reaches for Addison, pulling her in front of him like a shield, gun still to her head.
I hold Addison’s gaze as Zeke starts to walk her forward, toward the stairs leading downward.
“Where are you taking her?” I ask him, and I hate that my fucking voice is hoarse.
He laughs, still walking her forward, until they’re almost level with me, her eyes still on mine. “You’ll get what you were promised soon.”
Jameson.
That fucking bastard.
He wants to rush this. Addison must be personal to him, even though I’ve found no connection between the two of them. But he wants to rush it, because while he can’t leave and Ollie can’t leave because of whatever gang bullshit is happening at the border, he can have Addison come to him. He knows I’d never take her there myself. We’re supposed to meet on neutral territory.
As Zeke draws level with me, he turns so Addison is between us, trapped on either side by both of us. He still has the gun to her temple, and she’s still staring at me. I can’t read her expression, but in this moment, I want to fucking kill her and kiss her all at once.
She didn’t fucking listen.
And I left her.
