“I don’t believe you,” I whispered.

“You should,” he replied.

“My dad doesn’t have that gun,” I said.

“Yes, he does,” he returned.

“How do you know he has it?” I asked.

“Since he told me.”

What?

And again…

WHAT?

I…

Could not.

Believe this!

Ryn’s fingers curled stronger around mine.

Creepy guy, who I now knew for sure was Cisco, kept talking.

“He also told me he wanted five million dollars and he’d give it back. Now, I work hard, Evan. I mean,” another one of those creepy grins, “there’s time to have fun. Gotta carve out time to have some fun. But to get ahead in life, you gotta hustle. I’ve been hustling. Doing it a long time. I’m not gonna hand over money I worked hard for to some lowlife, pot dealer, rock star wannabe player.”

His expression changed.

And at that change, my throat decided to conduct vomit and I had to struggle to keep it down.

And when he spoke again, it wasn’t conversationally.

It was sinisterly.

“You think I’m gonna give my hard-earned money to some lowlife wannabe, Evan?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been giving my hard-earned money to a lowlife wannabe for years and it doesn’t feel all that great. So, no, I don’t think you are, and more, I’d advise against it. It leaves you feeling shitty.”

Surprised at my response, he extended his neck and his eyebrows went up.

But I was feeling a lot less terrified.

This was because I was processing.

Processing the latest load of shit my family had landed on me.

It was my father who did that to my apartment.

It was my father who figured out what Mick had in that bag with those drugs and he’d frantically ripped apart everything I owned to get his hands on it.

My father.

“So, my brother put me here and my father kept me here,” I stated.

“Not sure you should turn up at Thanksgiving,” Cisco suggested.

I’d already made that decision.

“It’s my understanding Dad’s been telling people to leave me alone,” I noted.

Cisco shrugged. “Sure. He is a dad. He just ain’t a real great one.”

He could say that again.

But I made a decision.

“Untie me and give me my phone,” I demanded.

Cisco shot me another creepy smile and replied, “I’m feelin’ some of the time we’ll share together I don’t want you tied, but I ain’t givin’ you your phone.”

“Okay, give me yours.”

He stared at me.

“Listen,” I said. “I can handle all of this for you in about five minutes. I’ll get you that gun and you can let us go.”

“Evie,” Ryn hissed.

I ignored her. “I assume you have my dad’s number programmed in your phone. And actually, that’ll work out better. My call coming from your phone. So I’ll use that.”

Cisco studied me but said nothing.

“Though, I want my phone too, so I can call Mag and tell him not to rescue us,” I continued. “You see, I think you’re getting an inkling that my family life isn’t all that great. But my life life is. I have a new boyfriend. He’s awesome. He’s sweet. He thinks I’m the shit and he tells me that all the time. No one has ever told me that, until he entered my life.”

Cisco’s expression changed again, and weirdly, it changed like he was pissed on my behalf.

I couldn’t give that my time.

I was busy finessing.

“We’re moving in together. And I have a feeling he’s going to give in on where we store the spices. I’ve also realized I have good friends, the best kind of friends you can have. I’m gonna go back to school. Finally, after a lot of crap, I’ve got things to look forward to. I have a life worth leading. And I’m gonna lead it. And I don’t care what I have to do to make that happen without anyone getting hurt.”

I moved my head around to indicate the girls and kept going.

“You don’t know us, but we’ve all been through a ton of shit. Now, you can force us to endure more trauma, and that’d suck, and it’ll be hard, but we’ll survive. We’ll get through. We’ve done it before. All of us. We’ll do it again. Though it’d save a lot of time and a lot of money on therapy if you’d just give me my phone, and yours, so I can handle this for you.”

“I’m feelin’ you. I think I like you. You got spirit. And no matter what people think about me, I don’t get off on hurting folks. At least not folks who didn’t do dick to me,” Cisco replied. “But you gotta understand why I won’t do that.”

“I don’t,” I retorted. “You want that gun. I want out of here. I want my friends out of here. And I want a Textual.”

His head jerked on “Textual,” but I just kept talking.

“So you promise to let us out of here, I’ll get you that gun.”

He started to shake his head, so I kept at him.

“I get shit is real for you. You’ve made shit real for me and my girls. Let’s all breathe a little easier. Just untie one hand. I’m not asking for privacy. I’m not requesting the use of all my limbs. I’m good with the phone. I do one-handed all the time. This may affect my car insurance, but even if I’ve had a few bust-ups, I’ve never dropped a call.”

Cisco held my eyes.

I returned the gesture.

“You can get me that gun?” he asked.

My heart jumped as hope flared.

I nodded, tried not to do it fervently, just confidently, and he watched me do it.

He didn’t take his gaze off me when he said, “Get her bag.”

Yes!

“Mine’s the little brown one,” I called when one of the men moved.

It wouldn’t be that easy, I knew it wouldn’t, but I didn’t like how much harder it got when Cisco tipped his head to the other guy and that guy approached Pepper at my side.

I turned my head to watch him do this and my throat closed automatically against the bile racing up it when he pointed his gun at her head.

She emitted a whimper.

I started breathing in short spurts through my nose.

“So, you know,” Cisco began, and I looked back to him, “I’ll be listening, and if I feel you’re gonna fuck me, you’ll have her brains all over that nerdy shirt.”

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” I whispered.

He cocked his head to the side. “You’re not a lot like your dad or your brother.”

I pointed out the obvious. “I’m the black sheep in the family.”

“You’re not scared?” he asked.

“I’m terrified,” I admitted. “I’m also a survivor.”

“Mm,” he hummed, watching me closely as the door opened. “Yeah, I think I like you,” he decided.

Great.

The guy that came back in untied one of my hands and gave me my phone.

“Speaker,” Cisco grunted.

I nodded.

Then I went to Favorites, called Mag and hit speaker.

He answered with a clipped, “Evie. Hang tight. We’re—”