Chapter 39
EMRIS
Pocketing my phone, I push through the door and lean against it, pressing my weight back into the wood. I close my eyes, letting the information I found sink in. Not even a few minutes later, the front door opens and slams shut. I fully expected to find Carson walking in, but instead it’s Troy.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask, pushing off the door and moving to the fridge to grab some water, keeping him in my line of sight.
“Carson asked for help with the cleanup,” he says, “but I told them I’d stay here in case you needed help with anything else.”
His words seem almost practiced—too smooth.
Troy and I were at each other’s throats not that long ago, and now he’s suddenly volunteering?
I twist the cap off the bottle, watching him over the rim of plastic.
Troy is a fucking snake in the grass. The kind that smiles while it waits for you to turn your back.
“Gotcha. I’m good here. If you want, you can go hang out at Carson’s.” I chug some of the water before placing it down on the counter, hoping it’s enough to get him the hell out of my house.
“Sounds good. I’ll catch you later.” He nods and walks toward the front door, but stops and turns on his heels. “Oh, I was meaning to ask. How’re things going with Brielle? I haven’t seen much of her recently.”
“I’m not answering questions about her to you. Are you done now?” I ask flatly. This asshole needs to get out of my house, now. The way he’s asking about her so casually has me on edge. Ever since the first night he met her, and the way he acted with her, it’s all been weird.
Troy’s smile widens. “Relax. Just making conversation.”
I step closer, just enough to remind him whose house he’s in. “You don’t get to talk about her.”
For a split second, something dark passes over his face, and then it’s gone only to be replaced with the same easy smirk. “Touchy,” he says. “Guess that answers my question.” His laugh fills the room, and I really want to grab a kitchen knife and stab him in the jugular right about now.
“You know, I always wondered what she saw in someone like you,” he says.
“Someone who kidnapped her, after all. She deserves someone so much better.” Troy tilts his head to the side, and I know he had no intention of leaving when he stepped toward the door.
No—he’s up to something else and whatever it is I don’t have time for it.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Probably Archer or Killian. I slide my hand into my pocket and manage to accept the call, keeping it going just in case. If something goes wrong, at least someone will hear it.
“And why do you think that, Troy?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, even if on the inside I’m screaming at myself to be ready.
“Because she shouldn’t be stuck with a piece of shit like you, Emris.” He steps closer, and it takes all my self-control—which isn’t much after today—not to add him to the other dead body.
Troy and I have been acquaintances for a long time, and he’s never acted like this before.
His pupils are blown, and his hands have a slight shake to them.
It’s only in the past few months that he’s changed.
Not hanging around as much and when he is, he’s been high on something or drunk, not looking like himself.
“Brielle would never want someone like you, Troy.” I can’t help but laugh, which pisses him off more. He moves until he’s standing toe-to-toe with me.
“She’s going to love me,” he says, voice low and crazed, like it’s already decided. “She wants me, Emris. I can tell by the way she looks at me. How she acts.” His smile stretches too wide, and his eyes are bright with something feverish. “And there’s only one way I’ll be able to keep her.”
He’s fucking lost it.
I step forward, crowding his space. “And how do you think that’s going to happen?” My face is only inches from his now. Troy chuckles, but it’s not full of humor.
“I’m going to do what she said would work,” he says. “But for that to happen, I need to deal with you first.”
It takes me a second to understand what he means.
By the time my hand moves for the gun at my waistband, a sharp sting blooms at the side of my neck.
I reach up and pull the needle out of my skin—one of mine from down in the basement.
That’s why he wanted to help Carson and Raymond. To get to my stuff downstairs.
I look up at Troy, my vision already swimming from the effects of the drugs. Never did I think he’d do something like this. Are Ray and Ash a part of this also? He said he was going to do what she said, and she can be anyone at this point.
I try to take a step forward, reaching for Troy. Brielle is downstairs and unprotected. I can’t let these drugs take over. I have to fight it, or he’s going to take her.
Troy steps to the side, and I crash to the ground. My hands come out in front of me, and I manage to barely catch myself before my face hits the hard floor.
“You’re pathetic, Emris. But you’ll be the perfect addition for Peter.
” He gets down on his knee so he can look me in the eyes.
“And this way you’ll be able to watch Brielle become a star for him—and for me.
All because you didn’t let her go. You can suffer while you watch me, and countless other men, use her the way we want.
You’ll get to watch as I become the hero in her eyes, and watch as I make her beg me to save her.
And only then I will. I’ll buy her for myself and there’s nothing you can do about it. ”
I can no longer get myself up. My vision goes blurry, and all I can hope for is that Archer or Killian heard his plan. But still, no one is here to protect Brielle. The thought of her being scared and alone is the last thing that goes through my mind as everything goes dark.