Landon rolls his neck until the bones crack. “You think I’m playing?”
“I know you’re not. But don’t you think this is too extreme for the occasion?”
“Not as extreme as you sleeping with my sister when I clearly told you not to.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed permission from anyone about the status of our growing relationship.”
“Now, you do.”
“What are your demands, Your Majesty?”
“No demands, just torture.” He nods at Eli and he directs the high-pressure water straight in my face.
I was ready for it since they showcased their weapon of choice, but actually being blinded by water and breathing it instead of air is different in a practical sense.
The force physically jerks my head back and someone holds my shoulders from behind, keeping me in place.
My lungs burn and I swallow more water than I can handle. The spasms in my limbs increase in intensity until they’re close to seizure level.
It’s fucking irritating when my physical being chooses to fail my mind.
Just when I think I’ll faint, the flow stops. I cough, spluttering on all the water and dragging it and air in through my mouth.
My hair and clothes are soaked, the droplets forming a pool on the ground.
Once I’ve gotten enough air, I burst out laughing. “That’s all you got? What are you? A fucking amateur?”
“I wouldn’t provoke him if I were you.” Eli speaks in a tone that I would believe intends good if I didn’t already know that the motherfucker left his soul in his mother’s womb and was miraculously born without one.
“If you’re going to torture me, do it properly and draw some blood. This isn’t some kid’s game.”
Creighton—who was the one grabbing my shoulders all this time—releases me and stalks to the door without a word.
“Where are you going, punk?” Eli asks.
“Out. I’m bored.” And then he leaves as if he was never there.
“Fucker needs his head checked,” Eli says with fake sympathy.
“Shouldn’t you set an example and do it first, E?” I taunt with a grin.
He merely stares at me blankly.
“Here’s how it will go.” Landon drags his club on the ground, creating a screeching, annoying sensory sound, and keeps the rhythm as he speaks. “Once we’re done with our little get-together here, you’re going to nurse your wounds, then text my baby sis that you no longer want her, and you’ll be brutal about it. I want you to make her hate you so it’ll be easier for her to forget you.”
“Question.” I interrupt in a super-serious tone. “I would’ve raised my hand, but they’re bound. Unless you want to change that?” When he keeps dragging his golf club on the ground, I continue. “Doesn’t hurt to ask. So my question is, would that plan work if she already hates me?”
“That’s a damn good question,” Eli agrees.
“Thanks, man.”
“Doesn’t matter what she feels for you now. I’ll make sure she leaves you behind. And I will personally choose the next man in her life.”
For the first time since this whole charade started, I want to bash Landon’s skull with his golf club and watch his brains splatter on the walls.
This motherfucker can hurt me all he wants, but giving Glyndon to someone else is where his life starts to be in jeopardy.
“You mean someone you can manipulate?” I smirk. “Let me guess, you personally approved of all her previous boring boyfriends, probably threatened them not to touch her either. Hmm, I don’t think she’ll react well to that information.”