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And now that I’m seated and entirely at his mercy, Uncle doesn’t stay silent a moment longer.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” he spits. “You make me run all over planet earth for you, then you spit in my face in front of a crowd of people, and then you show up on my doorstep like you still expect me to feed and clothe you? Did you just get bored of that boy, huh? Or did he knock you up and kick you out so you’re my problem again? That was probably his plan all along, and you fell for it, didn’t you? You stupid bitch.”
Despite my best efforts, I flush at the implication. It would be impossible for me to know if I were pregnant or not when Thomas and I only had sex for the first time barely a week ago. But my uncle’s understanding of women and the reality of them are two very different things.
Not to mention, I can’t imagine someone as thorough and steadfast as Thomas just abandoning me if… if I were actually-
I’m getting distracted. And my uncle is getting louder by the moment.
“- you really think I’m going to let you just go back to your room after this? Fuck no- you’re going in a cell until you remember that blood is the only thing that matters. Your only loyalty is to me, you got that?”
If I were a man, my uncle would probably notice my hand go behind my back and tug something out of the back of my jeans. If I were a man- or maybe a woman like Iris for that matter, someone that they took seriously for her martial prowess and intelligence- my uncle’s men might have searched me for weapons when they first brought me onto the estate. But I’ve lived the last ten years trying for my mother’s sake to be a good girl in their eyes, no matter what damage it did to me.
I suppose I should consider all that effort to be worth this moment, because when I pull the gun out from behind my back, my uncle is startled into immediate silence.
“I came here to bargain with you, Uncle,” I say steadily. “I want you to declare a truce with Thomas. A lasting one, this time.”
Even if I’m only buying time for Thomas to destroy my uncle once and for all, I want to do a thorough job.
For a moment, I’m afraid I didn’t speak out loud, because my uncle makes no reaction. He stares down the barrel of the gun in my hand like he’s never seen one before in his life. Then his brow furrows, and his mouth twists into an incredulous snarl.
“What the fuck is this?” he growls. To my dismay, he doesn’t sound afraid, only angry. “You can’t shoot me. You’d have nothing without me! Did that fucking Warwick boy put you up to this? Fucking unbelievable. He’s as gutless as his father-”
“He’s not a boy,” I hear myself say, “and he didn’t want me to come here. I’m here because this is what I want.”
“Oh-ho, you thought this up yourself?” he mocks. “You woke up one day and decided to threaten your own blood with a gun? I’m not scared of you, girl. So what happens next? Shoot me and you’re not walking out of this room alive.”
I think of Paul right outside the door. Would his loyalty to Uncle Morgan last beyond Uncle’s death? I don’t know, and I’m not shooting my uncle to test the theory.
The phone on the desk lets out a shrill ring, and I jump. Uncle flinches involuntarily, which gives me some hope that he’s really afraid but unwilling to show it. Quicker than he can, I snatch the phone up and answer it, keeping the gun trained on its target.
Before I can decide if I should pretend to be a secretary for my uncle, the person on the other end speaks.
I instantly recognize the voice.
“Speare, the plan’s changed. Warwick wants to move up the date of the raids. I told you that you came off too strong at the party. Honestly, what were you thinking-”
My shock is too much. The gun wavers in my hand, and my uncle sees it. He snatches at it, and when I try to jerk back, my finger squeezes the trigger.
It clicks harmlessly.
With a wrist-wrenching yank, my uncle gets the gun out of my hand. He points it back around at me, no hesitation, and pulls the trigger himself.
Click.
Grunting with frustration, my uncle checks the gun. Realizes it’s unloaded. Ejects the magazine. Finds it empty.
Just like I knew it would be. Just like I knew it had to be, because in my uncle’s home, among my uncle’s men, I couldn’t come in armed myself without expecting my own weapon to be used against me.
I’d hoped he’d be surprised by the sight of a gun in my hand, by the idea of his helpless, useless niece having the power to really hurt him. I’d hoped that his surprise would be enough that he’d agree to my demands. But Thomas’s technique didn’t translate so well. In my uncle’s eyes, I’ll always be a pathetic little girl he’s been forced to shelter.
Which means it’s time for my real plan to begin. Except, that plan was ruined before it even started, because the person Thomas put his trust in was never who he appeared to be.
Slowly, Uncle raises his eyes to meet mine. Wild fury has warped his face and made it blotchy with color. He swings the gun savagely, and the butt of it hits me so hard in the side of the face I topple out of my chair. The handset of the phone flies out of my hand, clatters against the marble. The person on the other end calls out of it.
“Hey- Speare! Are you there? What was that sound-”
I should try to get up, but the whole room is ringing like it’s inside a bell, and I can’t see straight. There’s blood running from my temple and flooding my mouth from the inside of my cheek. The marble underneath me is so, so cold.
