So he knew what the Elite had been up to, trying to get the proof they needed to make Carter pay for what he did to Kenna and put him behind bars. A laugh escaped—a hysterical one born of fear not just for myself, but for the Elite as well. “And you think kidnapping me is going to do that? You’re insane.”
“I am not,” he spat. “I exploited their weakness to lure them here.”
“They don’t have a weakness, and you’re stupider than I thought if you think it is me.”
“Really?” my stepbrother said like a smug asshole who had a trick up his sleeve. And he did. I just wasn’t sure it would work like he anticipated. “You look so much like her, but you already know that. Not exactly, of course, but close enough that if someone was drunk, they might mistake you for her.”
“Is that another threat? That you will do to me what you did to her?” I shouldn’t be baiting him.
He took the tip of his blade, catching it on the front of my shirt just above my breasts. “If you keep talking.” I heard the material tear as he tugged the knife just slightly upward. “You never do know when to shut that pretty mouth of yours.”
I swallowed, doing my best to stay still. I didn’t trust Carter with a knife that close to my heart. Cutting my shirt was one thing, but God forbid if I breathed too deep and the blade pierced my chest. I wasn’t overly fond of blood. Particularly my blood.
Carter’s head jerked to the side as another set of headlights cut through the darkness. They headed this way, flying across the parking lot. My already pounding heart beat faster as the car came into view. Carter’s grip tightened on me. The desire to bolt was so strong inside me, and I knew seeing Brock, Micah, Grayson, and Fynn’s faces would ignite my will to be safe. Despite what everyone thought of them or the reputations they built, the four of them made me feel like no one would ever hurt me again. I might have chanced an escape if it weren’t for the blade.
Grayson’s Jeep came to a screeching halt in front of Carter’s SUV, the headlights blinding me. I heard the car doors open, one by one. Then Brock, Grayson, Micah, and Fynn were all standing in front of us, each wearing similar expressions of murder. Even Micah wasn’t sporting his usual smirk. Not tonight. His light blue eyes went from me to the knife in Carter’s hands. “What the hell is going on, Carter?” Micah shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Took you guys long enough.” Carter sounded annoyed. “I thought perhaps Josie and I might get to have some fun after all. But here we are.” He ran the back of the blade down the column of my neck, and I shivered, icy dread forming in my gut.
“He drugged me,” I rasped.
Dark anger defined Grayson’s eyes as they flicked to my face. Our gazes clashed, and for a brief second, those cognac eyes flashed with regret. He had lost track of me at the party after promising not to, but it wasn’t exactly his fault.
“I’m okay,” I assured. “Just pissed off.” And scared, but I wouldn’t give Carter the satisfaction of voicing that emotion out loud.
Brock stepped forward, putting himself just in front of his friends. “Enough with the games, Carter. You got me out here, now what is it you want?” he demanded.
The ropes around my wrists cut into my skin as Carter jerked me forward. “I think it would be obvious. A trade.”
How would that be obvious to anyone but him?
Brock crossed his arms over his chest, staring Carter down. Even now, he looked at my stepbrother as if he was worthless. Not a bone in Brock’s body was intimidated by Carter or the weapon he held in his hand. “You don’t have anything I want.”
“Don’t I?” Carter countered, a brow raised in my direction. “How many times have you dangled your relationship with Josie in front of my face? Well, I finally figured it out. She’s your kryptonite.”
“I think you’ve seen too many superhero movies,” Micah said, rocking back on his heels. The seriousness that had been on his face when he got out of the car was gone. Micah wore his I-don’t-care-everything-is-a-joke mask like it was a shield—or maybe it was a battle tactic.
“Come on, Carter. You know a girl could never mean that much to me.” Even as I saw the slightest flicker in Brock’s eyes, his words still hurt, tearing through me like the storm churning in his eyes.
Carter reached up and grabbed me by the hair, yanking me forward. Pain prickled at each hair follicle, bringing tears to my eyes. “So this doesn’t bother you?”
“Let me go, you bastard,” I hissed, taking my knotted hands and thumping them against his chest.
Brock’s face was made of stone, unyielding, unmoving despite the pleading in my eyes. “You think I care about her?” he said to Carter flatly, facing him squarely.
“Yeah, I do. You want her for the same reasons I do.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ve fucked more girls than you ever will in a lifetime. And not once did I have to force them.”
“You’re wrong about what happened between Kenna and me. She lied. I didn’t do anything to her she didn’t ask for.” His voice snapped with hatred. “She used me to make you jealous, except you didn’t care, not until she said that I assaulted her.”
“Kenna wouldn’t do that.” Grayson seethed, a vein pulsing on his neck.
Carter shook his head. “I won’t let you ruin my life.”
Brock took another step closer. “So you plan to ruin mine instead, is that it? If your beef is with me, then let her go.” His gaze just for just a fraction caught mine and then he was back focused on Carter.
My stepbrother waved the knife in the air, his other hand still tangled in my hair. “It’s with all of you. I’m tired of the four of you thinking you’re untouchable. You’re not.”