We ride the rest of the way in silence. I don’t get the vibe that Knox is against this. More like he’s anticipating it. He’s as bloodthirsty as me. My only regret is that Violet isn’t here to witness this. But with the drug in her system, she wouldn’t be awake for it.
She wouldn’t remember it either.
She might not even remember me being there.
Which is for the best.
The glow of the restaurant is visible, and then we go down a short decline in the road, and it disappears. This is where most people jump from, since technically cliff jumping is against the rules. It’s a secret thing here in Crown Point, initiation bundled with the thrill of something illegal-adjacent. You’re not going to be arrested, but you will be scolded if they catch you.
To some, that’s the same thing.
We park on a gravel shoulder and hop out. I reach into the bed and tap the tarp. Jack flinches under it, then jerks against his binds. A muffled yell comes out of the lump.
Knox, across from me, raises his eyebrows.
I shrug. I pull the tailgate down and flip the tarp off him. He stares at us, completely wide-eyed, and I grin at him. I climb up beside him and flick my knife out. He squirms, trying to get away from me, but the rope and cinder blocks hold him firm.
I slice through the cord that binds his legs and arms to the concrete, then jump down. Knox and I each grab a leg and haul him out. He falls to the gravel in a heap.
“Ready?” I ask Knox.
He meets my eyes, and his brow lowers. I’m asking him to trust me—and in turn, I’m trusting him. We’ll be in this together.
After seeming to mull it over, he grins. I knew I read him right.
We lift Jack by his arms. His feet drag between us, still bound, and he makes a few attempts to get free from us. Finally, we reach the edge of the cliff.
We throw him to the ground, and I open my knife again. I lean down and trace it along his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs with his harsh swallow.
The fear is real now. I think he’s finally getting it through his thick skull.
It isn’t as intoxicating as Violet’s fear.
At the thought of Violet, my chest tightens. Rage goes through me when I look at him—at what he almost did to her.
I peel the tape off his mouth. There’s blood crusted on the corner of his lip and his nose from where I decked him in Violet’s room. He’s got a black eye forming, too, and a half-moon-shaped bruise on the bone on the outside of his eye socket.
He spits into the dirt beside him. “What—”
“Shut up,” I hiss. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me—in excruciating detail—what you planned to do to Violet Reece.”
He stares at me for a moment. I wonder what she ever saw in him, because all I see is poison.
“And if I don’t?”
I let him see how devoid of emotion I truly am. It’s easy to let the veil drop sometimes. I let out my demons around Violet—in the gym, in the woods—and on the ice, occasionally. When we’re hard-pressed for a win and there’s no other options. Becoming something people fear just adds another layer to my personality.
Two parts charm, one part insanity.
And a powerful family name to boot.
I give him a smile. The sort thatfeelscrazy—and must look it, by the way his eyes widen. “If you don’t, I’ll break your fucking legs and make sure you never touch a football again.”
He falls backward. “You wouldn’t. You—”
“I what?” I grip his throat and yank him toward me, until we’re eye to eye. “I’m the worst monster you’ve ever come across, asshole.” I toss my phone to Knox. “Film it.”
I release Jack and step back, leaving him lying on the ground. He swallows and pushes himself up. The flashlight comes on, illuminating his face, and he gulps again. His eyes dance around, like he’s trying to come up with a good enough lie.