Reaper's Legacy(106)

I took a deep breath and then nodded because she was right. Noah was more important than the rest of us put together.

“Okay, but promise me something,” I said. “You need to seriously try to get away. Don’t let yourself get caught or something just because you want to keep Hunter safe.”

She looked back outside, and for a moment I thought she might argue. How much had Hunter f*cked with her head, anyway?

“I’m serious. I’ll start screaming right now and let him know we’ve got that knife if you don’t promise me you’ll do your best to get away.”

“I’ll do my best,” she said. “If we get free, we could always give him time to get back before calling Dad, you know. It’s not like it’s all or nothing. I’m not stupid.”

I kept my mouth shut. If I got away and found a phone, Hunter was toast.

“I suppose there’s no time like the present, hmm?” I asked.

“Might as well go now,” she said. “I’ll keep the knife, unless you know how to use it?”

“You mean to fight?” I asked, startled. She nodded. “Um, no. I didn’t take knife-fighting class in school. You can keep it.”

“Okay, let’s do this thing,” Em said, using a very fine Arnold Schwarzenegger voice. Unfortunately, it was going to take more than a silly voice to make me feel badass. We bumped fists, opened the bedroom door, and started creeping across the floor. I was terrified we’d make it squeak, but fortunately it seemed solid enough. She eased the bedroom door open, and from downstairs I heard the sound of a game playing on the TV.

“I’ll go down the stairs first,” Em whispered. “Then I’ll wave you on. Be ready to go whatever direction I point you, based on where I see him. If I point back at the bedroom, go up and get yourself back into your handcuff, okay? If I wave you on, that’s it. We’ll only get one shot, so don’t f*ck it up. I’m counting on you to send help for me if I have to distract him.”

“I can do it,” I told her, hoping it was the truth. “Let’s both get out, though, okay?”

“Oh, one more thing, and this is important,” she said.

“What?”

“If you find a phone, call my dad or Ruger,” she said. “Don’t call the cops.”

I stared at her.

“Are you f*cking kidding me?”

“No,” she said, her voice serious. “I’m not kidding at all. This is club business—if we get the cops involved, things will get much worse, and it’ll happen fast, too.”

“No,” I said flatly. “If I get out of here I’m calling nine one one as fast as I can.”

“Then we’re not going,” she replied. My eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” she replied. “You call the cops, Dad or Ruger might wind up in jail before this ends.”

“How do you figure?”

“You think I was joking when I said Dad would kill Hunter?” she asked slowly. “This isn’t a game. I’ll try to convince him not to. I’ll hope to hell it doesn’t happen. But Hunter going to jail for this won’t protect him, and if Dad takes him out, I don’t want to lose him, too.”

“Jesus,” I muttered, shocked. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you won’t call the cops,” she replied. “If you’re in the position to make a call, you’ll already be safe. I have the right to make the decision for myself, though.”

I thought about it for a second.

“Okay,” I whispered. I didn’t like it, but I’d do it.

She nodded, then started down the stairs very slowly. This would be the hardest part, because we needed to pass through the living room to go anywhere else in the house. He was probably in there, because that’s where the TV was. I pictured the layout in my head—he’d be facing away, and I didn’t remember seeing any mirrors on the walls.

Just a little luck and we’d pull it off.

Em looked up at me, lifted a finger to her mouth and then waved me down. I crept from step to step, trying to stay completely silent, while still moving fast enough so that we wouldn’t lose our opportunity. Skid came into view as I reached the bottom of the stairwell. He sat on the couch, back to us, playing some sort of game that involved shooting at things.

Luckily, it also seemed to involve a lot of loud noises and blowing things up.