Branded (Fall of Angels #1)(23)

Either he wants to kill me himself …

Or he can’t, and this is all to save me.

Probably the first, considering our history and how we hate each other’s guts. I’m not sure what he plans to do with me. Maybe he’s going to end my miserable life in some tasteless, crummy motel room. Or maybe he wants to have some alone time with me first. Get to know my body like he knows my heart.

I’d rather he kill me.

Unlike his uncle, who would probably torture the hell out of me, he’ll make it quick and painless. I don’t know his uncle well, but I do know he’s the fucking devil.

Why Brandon doesn’t see it is anyone’s guess.

Maybe he’s really that oblivious, or maybe he’s ignoring it on purpose. Who’d be able to condemn their own family? I couldn’t, that’s for sure, even though they deserve it too. None of us are perfect, and I won’t ever pretend we are. But Brandon knows this better than anyone, I reckon.

He knows why family always comes first.

Always.

Because if it didn’t, all of it would’ve been for nothing.

But then, why did he choose to take me with him instead of delivering me to his uncle? Why did he shoot that guard and risk his own life?

I swallow away the lump in my throat when I catch him staring at me through the rearview mirror. I wonder what he’s thinking about. If it involves the choice he just made, or if he’s thinking about me.

“So what are you planning to do with me?” I ask, licking my lips.

I know he’s looking. I can tell.

I don’t mind. It’s been a long time since he last saw me. And if I can use my looks against him, I’d be stupid not to try.

“You taking me somewhere you can have me alone?” I taunt. “It’s okay. You’re not the first man to try to hook up with me.”

This catches his attention for sure, causing him to flare his nostrils. Still, he doesn’t say a word. He sure is iron-willed.

“You don’t have to say it out loud. I get it. You miss me, and now you wanna have me all to yourself …” I say, leaning forward as far as I possibly can before hitting the plastic barrier between us. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.”

The wink I add sets him off.

“Shut up,” he spits. “Just shut up.”

“Why?” I lean back and flaunt my body, showing off my assets in the best way I can by pushing my boobs forward and almost exposing my belly. “Can’t handle the truth?”

I want him to get upset, and it’s definitely working all right, judging from the discomfort marring his face right now. If I can use my body to get out of this situation, I will. Anything goes in love and warfare.

This game of cat and mouse isn’t one I’m going to win quickly, though. I have to give it time and let it simmer on his brain a little. It’s the only way to rile men like him up. And when he finally does mess up, I’ll be right there to use it to my advantage and escape.

He turns his dark gaze back to the road ahead. Letting him stew, I gaze out into the night as the heavy traffic we find ourselves in slows our pace. The city of lights really does honor to its name with its banners and sparkling lights that fucking blinding you wherever you go. As a tourist, I’m sure it’s a sight to see, but I’m not here on a fucking vacation. I had one job to do, and I fucking failed.

I grind my teeth and stare at the plastic between us, wondering if I can break through it and escape. It’s the only way to make it back to my dad, which is the only place I can try to ruin Josiah’s business a final time. I need to get away from Brandon, but I’m sure he’s not gonna let me go that easily.

Which is why I have to make a ruckus.

So I start kicking the tough plastic partition between us, hoping it’ll crack.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Brandon barks, glaring at me through the rearview mirror.

I don’t respond. He knows exactly what I’m doing.

“Stop!” he growls, but I won’t calm down. Not even a little bit as I jam my foot against the panel between us over and over again.

“You’ll break it, dammit!” he growls, driving like an erratic lunatic.

Exactly the point. But he knows that just as well as I do, judging from the look on his face.

He presses a button, and suddenly, the partition between us lowers. It’s replaced with a gun, though. Right in my face.

“If you do that again, I swear to God—”

“You’ll what?” I taunt.

“Don’t make me do it, Dixie,” he says through gritted teeth, trying to glare at me and the road at the same time.

“Do it. I don’t care,” I say in a bold moment of courage.

“You wanna die?” he blares, unlocking the safety. “Sit. Down.”

My throat clamps shut. He could pull the trigger any time, and I’d be gone. It’d be a quick death, but now that I’m so close, do I really wanna pull the plug so easily?

I have more to offer to this world, and I’m not done with making the sinners pay yet.

So I lower my feet and sit down properly again.

“Good girl,” he says.

“Now behave and maybe I’ll let you out of this car once we get to our destination.”

He makes it sound like I’m a dog on a leash.