Page 141 of Wicked Promises

Looking fearful—of Claire, and also what I’m about to do—isn’t an act.

She moves to the side.

The phone keeps ringing and ringing.

Two feet away, then one. She groans, her hands releasing her hair and sliding down her face.

This is your moment, a voice in my head whispers.

It’s a combination of Dad and Caleb. Liam and Riley and Robert and Lenora.

I throw myself sideways, into Claire. We topple, but I grasp the counter to keep from going down.

She shrieks as she falls, her fingers losing traction against the smooth material of my jacket. She locks on to my wrist and yanks me down with her.

Forget the gun.

I fall on top of her. My elbow digs into her stomach, and she lets out anoof.

But that can’t just be the end of it. She’s a fighter.

She grips my hair, yanking my head back, and we flip. My scalp stings at the pressure.

I flail. My elbow vibrates all the way down to my fingers when I make contact with bone—shoulder or head, I can’t tell. She punches me, her fist skating across my jaw. My cheek cuts into my teeth, and blood fills my mouth.

I scramble to my knees and dive for her, pinning her arms above her head. Once I’ve straddled her, I lean to one side and spit out blood.

“Let go of me, you freak!” She thrashes. “You’re ruining everything! You’re dead, you hear me?”

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit,” I answer. I cock my fist back and let it fly. I’m readier for the pain that skitters across my knuckles.

Her head snaps to the side.

We never fought when we lived together, but she sure did know how to get on my nerves.

This was a long time coming.

Caleb grabs me under the arms, hauling me up and away. “That was hot.”

I glance at him. His arms are free. He pulls the rest of the tape off, his eyes on me. I turn to Claire, who is slowly climbing to her feet.

“You’re going to pay for that.” She wipes blood off her mouth with the back of her hand, then looks around.

I find the gun at the same time she does, and we both go for it.

Her fingers graze the barrel, but I’m faster.

I yank it away and swing around. She stops dead when I level it at her chest. My thumb flicks the safety off.

“Just try me,” I warn. “You’ve been harassing me for months. You put a dead bird in my room. Where did that even come from? Pretty bird?”

She stares at me. It would appear that she’s unafraid of the gun. “You don’t remember?”

I stay silent.

She tips her head back and laughs. “Oh, the irony. The answer is in yourhand. In your past, too. And I couldn’t resist—it was so much fun ruffling your feathers.”

Caleb grimaces. “You weren’t at Emery-Rose. How did you get that inside knowledge?”