Page 127 of Jonas

“We can do this the hard way.” Natalie swept an arm toward the toolboxes. “Or you can save us all time and start talking.”

“But either way, you’re going to kill me,” I wheezed.

“Yeah, Derrika. What the fuck did you think was going to happen when you started poking your nose into shit you should’ve stayed out of?”

Well, for starters, I didn’t think I’d find my soulmate. Neither did I think I’d only have him a few days before I died.

“You have your fuck buddy Anson to thank for that,” I pointed out.

Natalie straightened, and I heard Keith’s unhappy grunt.

Interesting.

Natalie and Keith were partners in more than just killing.

Since she wanted me to talk and I needed to waste time until Jonas found me, I started talking and maybe if I lied well enough, Jun De Chen would turn on Natalie and Keith.

“You should know, the two of you screwed up at the Petersons’. The neighbors heard the gunshots and called it in. But worse for you, not only did I see you leave, which means the police have the pictures I took, you didn’t erase all of the neighbors’ security footage. You know that big brick house on the corner? Clear shot of Keith driving and you in the passenger seat.”

That was a lie, but Jun De didn’t know I was fibbing, and the look he shot Keith was murderous.

“You’re so full of shit,” Natalie accused.

“Am I? So it wasn’t you carrying a black duffle out of the Petersons’ house?”

I struck a chord, just not the one I wanted to pluck. Keith moved lightning-quick, and with superhuman strength, his hand latched around my throat and he picked me and the chair clean up off the cement floor.

Not only was my oxygen cut off but it felt like my neck was going to snap any second. With a bone-jarring thud, Keith dropped me. The chair listed to the side, but before I could tip over, he used my hair to prevent the fall. The pain in my scalp barely registered over the burn in my lungs.

“What does Zane Lewis know?” Keith calmly asked like he hadn’t almost dislocated my head from the rest of my body.

“Everything.”

“Specifically, what does he know?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

Keith’s hand came up. I braced for what I was sure would be a power punch that broke my jaw. But at the last second, he opened his fist and slapped me across the face. So, that was better than a broken jaw but no less painful. It took less than a second for the stinging to turn into a deep throb. I’d been slapped hundreds of times, but never that hard. Never had the pain penetrated in a way that I felt it in my skull.

“What’d Anson tell you?” Natalie rejoined.

“You mean to tell me that my employment at Delcon wasn’t part of your pillow talk after his little blue wore off?”

Natalie’s punch was nowhere near as effective as Keith’s slap, but the contact served to intensify the agony.

“What the fuck did he tell you?” she repeated.

“Why does it matter? He’s dead, and you’re fucked. Both of you. There’s no place you can hide, nowhere you’ll be safe. You were already dead before you took me, just like with Anson, Lou, Karen, you’re disposable. But that was before you took me. Now, your death won’t be quick like Anson’s and Lou’s. Now it will be painful.”

“You think you mean that much to Zane Lewis?” Natalie huffed. “Girl, he’s too busy chasing his tail to worry about you.”

Zane would take my death as a personal attack. But Jonas…that short leash he had on his humanity would snap. He’d be filled with guilt. He’d blame himself. My death would emancipate him from the last of his civility, and he’d rain hellfire. Poor Kira was probably feverishly searching for me. She, too, would feel guilty if she couldn’t find me in time.

But I had to hope.

I was tied to a chair with no hope of escaping. I couldn’t save myself, but I could buy myself time.

Confusion.