Page 18 of Blackwood

He and Mr. Fancypants Vince have been thick as thieves lately, whispering like snakes in a pit. Vince, the new DA with his slick suits, shiny shoes, and a closet full of bones. Apparently, that promotion came gift-wrapped with a fat-ass donation from Carlos.

Real cute.

Vince plays the game, cocktail charm, power smiles, and all that clean-cut predator bullshit. But I see past it. Men like him don’t wear their monsters on their sleeves. They bury ‘em behind legal briefs and empty courtrooms.

The two of them have been plotting. Whispering timelines. Buyer lists. Talking about her.About what happens once I’m gone.

It’s a miracle I haven’t gutted them both yet. They think when I turn eighteen, I’ll just walk away into the sunset with my hoodie and my laptop. Like I’d ever fucking leave my sister behind.

Idiots.

It’s late. Bella’s not asleep. I can tell by the way she moves.

She’s thinking.

Plotting.

Pissed.

She doesn’t cry anymore. There’s no softness left inside her. She’s fourteen. Fourteen and already burned to ash on the inside.

“Zeke?”

I glance up from the glow of my screen. “Yeah?”

She turns toward me, one eye barely open. “Carlos said he’s gonna get rid of you tomorrow.”

My jaw tightens. “Yeah. Heard that.”

“Said you won’t be in their way anymore.”

I look up from my laptop, eyes cold. “I’ll always be in their way, Bells.”

She sits up, fire sparking in her steel-gray eyes. “Good. Because if I wake up and you’re gone, I’m setting the kitchen on fire. I already stashed two lighters under the sink.”

“That’s my girl.”

She shrugs. A half-smile flickers across her face. She’s gotten stronger since Dylan. Gone is the kid who used to flinch at footsteps.

Now she throws matches.

Downside? She’s got the attitude of a full-blown prima donna. Snark and all. Not that I’m completely mad about it. She’s becoming a pint-sized me, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little proud.

“Carlos was outside our door last night,” she says. “While you were in the shower.”

My spine goes stiff. “You should’ve come and got me,” I snap.

“Outta the shower?” She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, no fucking thanks. I’d rather the first dick I see not be my big brother’s.”

“The first dick you see, little sister, is getting cut off by yours truly. I don’t give a damn how romantic you think it is.”

She scrunches her face. “Gross, bro. You’re full of rage tonight.”

“You bring it outta me, little psycho. And watch your mouth.”

“Takes one to raise one,” she shoots back, grinning like the little devil child she is.

I shake my head, settling back against the wall. My hand resting on the knife under the pillow. “So what’d he say?” I ask.