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CHAPTER 28
Tyler
My heart thundered as I scrambled to the end of my bed, putting myself between Indiana and the intruder. I searched the dimness in my kitchen for the asshole behind the voice.
“Don’t fucking move!” the bastard said.
The dim glow from the trailer park lights outside filtered through the lace curtain, casting long shadows that stretched like fingers across the cramped space.
“Okay. Okay.” I raised my hands. “Calm down. What do you want?”
“You.”
“Okay. Now you have me. Let’s go outside.” I tried to see the man in my kitchen, but the shadows were too dark. He was as tall as me but wasn’t built like a fighter. I clenched my fists, determined to protect Indy.
“You took everything from me.” The voice cut through the silence like a jagged shard of glass. It was vaguely familiar, and yet it wasn’t.
“Who are you?” I inched closer, staring into the darkness. Behind me, Indiana’s ragged breathing was like an alarm screaming in my mind.
The asshole was breathing loud, too, like he’d run a marathon or he was scared out of his fucking mind.
His silhouette was a dark smudge against the faint light. His stance was wide like he was ready to attack. Yet, there was a sense of discomfort about him, too.
Hoping he couldn’t see me very well, I inched closer to him.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I saw something in his hand. Fuck. A gun.
“Listen,” I said, “I don’t know who you are but?—”
“I fucking thought I knew who you were. You lied to me. To us.”
My heart launched up my throat.
“Owen?” My voice was steady despite the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Had Wesley’s twin brother found me?
“You killed my family.”
“I’m sorry. I truly?—”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Easy.” As I tried to calm him, my mind raced. “Let me turn on a light so you can see me.”
His gun hand trembled, but when he didn’t respond, I turned on the strip lighting that ran along the hall ceiling.
Fuck me. He is exactly like Wesley’s ghost.
This was Wesley’s face, twisted with grief and anger. His eyes, twin pools of Wesley’s, gripped me in their deadly rage. The same eyes that had laughed alongside his brother’s now narrowed with hatred. Yet he seemed to be having an internal battle. A war between blood and retribution that he had probably been waging for two years.
Raising my hands, I inched closer.
“Stay there.” His finger twitched on the trigger, a movement so small yet screaming volumes.
“Okay, okay.” I raised my hands higher and slowly turned around, showing him I was unarmed, with my back to him, I mouthed to Indiana to stay down. Her wide eyes matched the fear racing through me.
I faced Owen again. His chest rose and fell, and his arms trembled. He was a bomb set to detonate.
