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“Let her go,” Tom said to Mathias, “and move out the door slowly.”

The masked man pushed Wendy to the ground and walked backward toward the door.

Tom moved into my vision. He was wearing a mask this time as well, but I recognized his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “What am I supposed to tell Bryce? What about Evelyn?”

“You were never supposed to know about any of this, Joe,” he said. “But you Steel boys wouldn’t quit pushing. Our beef was never with you. It was with your father.”

“You have no beef with us? You torture my little brother, and you think we’re not going to come after you? You don’t know any of us very well, and you sure as hell didn’t know our father.”

“You’re the one who never knew who your father really was, Joe.”

I froze, chills skittering through my veins.

Tom was right. I just didn’t know to what degree he was right.

I would damned well find out.

“Everything was going along fine,” Tom continued, “until your brother decided to go into therapy, decided to dredge up all the shit that had been long buried.” He held the gun against the side of my head. “You think I won’t kill you, don’t you, Joe? You think because you’re Bryce’s best friend, I won’t do it.”

I scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You killed your nephew, Tom. I know you have every intention of killing me. You won’t lose a wink of sleep over it. I don’t question you at all. I know you wouldn’t think twice about pulling that trigger and putting a bullet in my head.”

“How do you think it feels to die, Joe? How do you think it feels to have a bullet rip through your body?”

My bowels churned once again, but no way was I going to shit myself in front of Tom Simpson. He was sure as hell not worth that. I would go down fighting.

“Go ahead and kill me if you have to.” I willed my voice not to crack. “But I already told your friend here that we made arrangements with our attorneys for our fortune should anything happen to any one of us. You won’t get your hands on a cent of it.”

“We’ve seen your father’s will, Joe.”

“Good for you. I’ve seen my father’s will, also. You seem to be forgetting that my father is dead, so his will is moot. I have my own will. And trust me, it’s ironclad.”

“We’ll see about that,” Tom said. “We know what’s in his will, and nothing you can do can change what we know to be true. We made sure there were no loopholes.”

What the hell was he talking about? My father’s will had been read to us by his attorneys after his death. No one had contested it, and his death was common knowledge. His obituary appeared in all the local papers. As informed as these jokers claimed to be, surely they knew that.

This was all a ruse. They were trying to play with my mind. To manipulate me. Well, I was far from a ten-year-old boy or eight-year-old girl. “I’m done with this conversation. Either kill me or get the fuck out of here.” I looked to Wendy. “And take her with you.”

“We don’t want her. She was your father’s problem, not ours.”

“Come on!” Mathias yelled from the doorway. “Leave him be. We’d never hear the end of it from her if we blasted his brains all over this place.”

“We could kill both of them,” Tom said. “I’m sick of the sight of them.”

“No more than I am, but you know the consequences. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Tom walked toward the door, still holding the gun on me. “You’re getting spared again, Joe. But trust me when I say your luck will run out eventually.” He shut the door behind him.

I let out a gasping sigh, ready to release my bladder. Wendy was crumpled on the floor.

And I realized I still held a gun in my hand.

I pointed it straight at her.

Chapter Thirty–Three

Melanie


Tags: Helen Hardt Steel Brothers Saga Erotic