“I’m not your twin,” I tell him again. “But how about I help you find her?” Not that I want someone else to be tortured instead of me, but maybe I’d be able to leave and get him the help that he surely needs. Neither punishing me nor my parents would right any of the wrongs in his life.
He chuckles but the sound brings me no pleasure. “You’re my twin,” he states, as though there’s no argument.
“Then let’s do a DNA test.”
He baulks at my practical suggestion. “Don’t need no fuckin’ test to prove it. I know who I am and who you are.” He takes a phone from his pocket and holds it out. “Ring your parents if you don’t believe me. And tell them I send my love while you’re at it.”
I’m obviously doing no such thing, but I’m also at a loss on how to get out of here. Any chance that arises, I’ll take it.
Thorne gets back to pacing, and muttering to himself. The words I can make out, chill me.
“Where the fuck are you Saul? I’ve got the bitch for you.” He pauses his step, then starts marching again. “It was easy, there was no one guarding her. First fuckin’ time in weeks…” He stops suddenly. “Wait a fuckin’ moment. Have they got you, Saul? Is that why they removed her protection? Because they think they’ve got the person who’s after her?” He starts cackling, laughing, bent double, then suddenly freezes.
He changes quickly, going from mirthful to serious. His face contorts with rage as he approaches me.
“Is that it? Have the Devils hurt Saul? Have they got him? Is that why you were alone and I could take you?” When I don’t speak, he backhands me across my face.
“Where’s Saul?” he shouts again, and this time spittle lands on my cheek.
I wish to God I could wipe it away.
If I tell him Saul’s dead, he’ll kill me.
He stares intently into my eyes as though trying to read my very soul.
Although I’m a singer, I’m also an actor on stage. Not only can I appear bright and breezy when I’m feeling like shit, but I also portray appropriate emotions for each piece of music we play. A sad song? I sing like my heart is breaking. Upbeat? I dance with a smile. While I doubt I’d ever win an Oscar, knowing this might possibly be the most important performance of my life, I bring forth all my acting skills, and keep my expression impassive.
“I don’t know where Saul is.” In a way, it’s the truth. I have no idea where his body is now.
His mouth twists, his eyes narrow, but he shoves me back and resumes his pacing again, as I breathe a sigh of relief I haven’t given anything away.
Thorne seems content not to have a conversation, and that’s quite okay with me. It’s easier not to lie when you don’t have to talk. Instead I use the time, eyeing the room and checking for weapons if, and when, he unties me. Would I be able to get that gun out of his hand?
My face throbs from where he hit me so I’ve no illusions even if I accept there’s a relationship between us that he’ll show me any brotherly love. He knows Saul meant to hurt me, and that appears not to bother him at all. I shudder, knowing his lack of compassion means he’s likely to follow out on his threats. Sue me if I prefer to keep all my appendages firmly attached.
I try to work out when I’ll be missed, and when Bart will send out a search party. I doubt it will before I’m due at the casino tonight. I swallow back tears at the fear Kylie and Bart will feel for me.
They’ll report me missing to the police, but all the cops can do is go chasing a man who’s already dead. They’ll never connect the dots to a twin I didn’t know existed. My parents will be distraught, and the Devils? Well, even if Bart goes to them, even if they wanted to help, they’ll be just as lost too. They’d done their job, caught my ex, and I’m a witness to how he’ll never be talking again.
They won’t know about Thorne. Like anyone else, they’d have no reason to.
Would they even try to find me? I didn’t say goodbye to Petty, and he’s intelligent enough to join the dots. He’ll know what happened in the basement and suspect I left not wanting anything more to do with him or anyone who wears a Devils’ cut. They’re men who’d condone killing, being judge and jury all at once.
Here, now? I wish I could take it all back.
The devil right in front of me is ten times worse than any of the men who took drastic action for good reason. It chills me that if Saul were here now, he wouldn’t have stopped at a simple smack to the face. He’d probably have raped me—at least Thorne’s belief in our familial relationship protects me from that.
I revise my thoughts on applying swift retribution, knowing now if I had my chance to get hold of that gun, I’d kill Thorne without a second thought. Not only to save myself, but to prevent my parents going through the shock and worry of me never coming home, let alone if he carries out his threat and sends me back piece by piece.
I’m no different to a Devil at heart, and that organ clenches at the thought of never seeing Petty again, never admitting I was wrong. It might have taken a drastic situation, but I understand him better now.
He was going to be free of Britney, and I had a chance to be with him, but Thorne’s put an end to that.
Will he ever know what’s happened to me? Deep down, I hope that he’d care.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to see Devils busting through the door. Hammer, Cobra, Sarge and Petty himself—oh, how safe I’d felt with them. But they won’t be giving any further thought to me. Their contract has ended, and not on good terms. I’ve annoyed Red.
The Devils will have moved on. They kept me safe from Saul, and that was all they were employed to do. I know too much about them but can’t tell a soul. That gun in their safe would incriminate me.
