“Yes, your bedmate, Marinos,” her brother said. “Once he got you remembering, once I had a shot at destroying not only your world but his when I take you out right under his well-trained nose, how could I pass up that chance? Killing you is the right end to this, don’t you think? We’ve come full circle, sister mine. One of us dies, Cole Marinos is blamed, and the other gets to start over, clean and clear.” He shoved the muzzle of his gun against the side of her head. “Only this time, I’m the one who wins.”
She spat in his face, her defiance earning her a backhand across her own.
“I won’t let you get away with this,” she said through the gash that had split her lip.
“Like you didn’t let me get away with setting the fire in the barn? Marinos left you then with his tail between his legs, just as he’s not here with you now.” He laughed at her outraged face. “No. Your great love has never been strong enough to keep you two together. It won’t keep you alive now. You’re weak, sister. I’m the survivor in the family, and you don’t have what it takes to stop me.”
“And all you care about, brother, all you’ve ever cared about, is hurting people and the money you now make while you’re doing it.”
In the doorway beyond Sebastian’s self-congratulating tantrum, she caught a flicker of a shadow moving in the hallway.
Cole.
Thank God.
“Money is power.” The muzzle of Sebastian’s revolver pressed into her temple once more. “And power’s the only thing that matters. That’s the one lesson we both managed to learn from good old Father. It’s why you’ve slaved away, sacrificing everything else in your life for our business, even though you couldn’t possibly understand its true potential. It’s why I knew you’d never trust Marinos enough to stay with him tonight in that ridiculously tricked-out shack of his. Of course you’d come back here alone, crying and weak, picking up the pieces of your sad excuse for a life. What you really want most, just like me, is to do everything by yourself. You need to control your world, like Father taught both of us to do. How you live. How you love—or not. Even how you choose to die. This is what you wanted. It’s what you’ve dreamed of. I’m really doing you a favor. This way, no one will hurt your stupid, tender heart again, right? The difference between you and me, Shaw, is you’re too weak to make your dream a reality on your own.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” she said. She’d been watching Cole’s approach, holding herself motionless while her head throbbed and her brother monologued about his sadistic victory.
“And why’s that?” The muzzle of their father’s pistol bit deeper into her skin.
“Because my dream-come-true is standing behind you,” she said, “with his weapon pointed at your freakish skull.”
…
Shaw had been on the floor, bleeding, sneering up at her maniac brother. Now she was smiling at Cole’s approach. Her cheek was bruised, her upper lip cut. She looked close to passing out at any moment, and yet strong enough to keep battling her brother until she’d beat the bastard at his own maniacal game. She’d defied the danger they’d put her in. And like a seasoned interrogator, she’d talked her brother into revealing every one of his secrets.
Cole was going to get her out of this. Then he was going to paddle her for taking ten years off his life while he’d listened to every twisted word that had passed Sebastian’s lips. Then he was going to chain her to his side and kiss her breathless until he talked her into marrying him, so she could spend the next sixty years or so driving him even crazier while he tried to keep up with her brilliant, impossible self. To hell with her not forgiving him. He’d find a way to make her see that they didn’t have to be over. She’d find a way to love him again. He didn’t care what it took. He wasn’t giving up. Not this time.
How could he ever have thought he could let this fearless woman go?
“Drop the gun, Sebastian,” he said. The only thing keeping him from ripping the man limb from limb was the weapon Sebastian still had pressed to his sister’s temple.
“Pray tell,” Sebastian said. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you don’t have a death wish. Narcissists have too strong a sense of self-preservation to be that stupid, even one as warped you. And trust me. I will kill you.”
“I’m terrified.” The bastard actually chuckled, and Cole saw Shaw cringe. Her complexion was paper-white. Blood dripped from a scalp wound where her brother had taken a swing at her. All while Cole had waited in the hallway, as he and Shaw had discussed he would, until she gave him the safe word they’d agreed upon.