Page 56 of The Players

“Aren’t you just Easton’s muscle?” Savannah asked. When he shrugged, she said, “Muscle doesn’t talk.”

Was I even in the room anymore? I didn’t know. But what I did know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that Savannah Bright had killed my parents. The realization hit me like a slap and then rolled over me like waves, threatening to take me under only to force me back to the surface again.

“It wasyou,” I said, my mouth moving on its own accord.

I’d known my father wasn’t responsible. I’d felt it in my bones, but now, to have it revealed in such a way, here while I was being held captive, while my grandmother was being kept in a freezer… I didn’t know how to process it at all. I simply stared at Savannah as if seeing her for the first time.

“Why?” was all I could come up with.

She shrugged casually. “Easton let me know your mom was going to fail him in English. We tried to bribe her, go through all the standard outlets, but she wouldn’t budge. She thought she was better than us. I wanted to show her that wasn’t true.”

Her face was smug. There was no remorse.

There it was, the confession. The thing I’d been waiting for all this time. And, frankly, I couldn’t deal. My brain whirred and spun like a computer processor full of sand. This could not be happening. Did Savannah kill my parents? Could it really be true?

I stared at her, this psychopathic Barbie. “You think that’s enough reasonto kill someone? Because they thought they werebetter than you?”

I could barely process it over the beating of my heart. Was I in shock? I had to be. Yet, I struggled to remain present. Nothing had been more important in my life. I had to stay here. I had to somehow save my one remaining family member.

Spencer was the one to answer my last question. “Savannah doesn’t need a reason to kill someone,” he whispered. “She likes it.”

She smiled wildly, all eyes and teeth. “I heard that, little brother. And, no matter how much you despise me, you are right. I do like it. And I’m looking forward to it again, so, without further ado, let’s get this show on the road!” She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Bring her in the back.”

Savannah clomped toward the meat counter. Even in the dim light, I could see butcher’s knives lined up beside a table. She was a murderer, and those were her tools.

And I was her next victim.

But I could not let that happen.

I struggled against Ty and Spencer’s grip as they began to obey her command. “Don’t do this,” I said. “You’ll be accomplices. You’ll go to jail too, and even if you don’t get caught, you’ll be haunted by it for the rest of your life. Let me go!”

“Sorry,” Spencer said, looking truly sad. “She has me by the balls. You understand.”

“No, I don’t,” I said. “Please.”

When wouldn’t look at me, I turned toward Ty. “Ty, please. Let me go. You aren’t a murderer.”

But his eyes stayed locked straight ahead. He moved like an automaton. The perfect, brainless muscle.

“Help! Help!” I screamed until Savannah came and plastered a piece of duct tape over my mouth. Now, my muffled screams went nowhere. The guys couldn’t hear me. No one could hear me.

No one was coming.

That was it. My last chance.

Live or die, I was in this alone.

Chapter twenty-three

“Putheronthetable.” She gestured to the long metal table in the center of the deli area. It had been cleared off for this purpose as if Savannah had prepared ahead of time.

Terror blasted through my body as they pulled me toward it. I fought as hard as I could, but two grown males against one female made it impossible for me to get away. Still, I put up a good fight, kicking, dragging my feet, and making muffled noises as they yanked and pulled me to my doom.

“Can’t we just knock her out?” Ty asked, grunting and dodging my kicks.

“No, I want her awake for this.” Savannah watched the struggle with boundless glee, a butcher’s knife in one hand.

No, no,no. Tears streamed down my face as I continued to struggle, but then Spencer hauled me up and hoisted me over his shoulder before slamming me down on the metal table. I tried to lurch up, but they were fast—Ty securing my feet and Spencer holding my arms so I was spread wide like a starfish. I tried lashing back and forth, but it was no use.

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