Page 117 of The Triangle

He darts over to me and gets right in my face. I can feel his warm breath. “Why, Christine? Why not? Why shouldn’t I? Is there a reason? You haven’t let your feelings for those two enter back into things, have you? Because I thought that was done now.”

My whole body is vibrating. I wonder if he can see it. “It is,” I manage.

“Izit?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah,” I swallow. “It is.”

“I hope so, luv.” He strokes my cheek. “I hope so. I want to walk out of here together. I’ll need you, at any rate, to deal with the Brasil Lynch of it all. We’re not there yet, my sweet. Not yet.”

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

What kind of deal do I have going with Alec’s brother? And why? God, why the fuck did I do this?

“Christine,” Lars says. I turn my head to see him. Watch his lips move as he talks. But my mind is busy keeping track of what’s happening around me, so I miss it.

“What?”

“Are you with me?” I nod. I don’t know what else to do. “My girl,” he says. Being called ‘his’ sends a chill down my spine.

Again, he brushes his knuckles down my cheek and smiles.

Everything in my body wants to revolt against that touch.

Everything except the one thing that controls me. Has always controlled me. Always been my best asset.

Instinct.

So I don’t recoil. I smile back. Breathe out.

He grabs me by the back of the head and kisses me on the lips, hard. The kiss is surprising, but the pain from his fist brushing against my stitches is what grabs my attention.

“Ow,” I blurt out, involuntarily.

“Sorry,” he says on a laugh. “I forgot. You’re lucky that Reggie and Lex was down there to break your fall. Ain’t you?”

Reggie and Lex? Who—?

“Ain’t you?” he yells this time.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess,” I say.

From somewhere in the woods, we hear a sound. Two sets of feet. Running recklessly, without caution. The sound of two people fueled by emotion, not by reason.

Lars stands me up and presses the automatic rifle into my hands. He slaps a fresh clip into his pistol. He smiles.

“Here it comes. Go there. Behind that shrub.” He points. I start to go where he tells me to. He grabs my wrist and stops me. I turn back.

“You don’t remember a fokken thing, do you?” He squints.

I grimace. I don’t want to, but I can’t seem to stop it.

“That’s all right,” he says. “We’ll get it sorted when this is done. Trust me, yeah?”

Trust him. Trust anyone. That’s the stupidest request I’ve ever heard.

“Of course,” I say with my most convincing smile.

“Because, luv, I’m trusting you.” He nods at the rifle. And then he lets me go and takes his own place behind a tree on the other side of the clearing.