for Mercy?”
“He’ll be here soon,” Boomer whispered back. “Let him get scared, and when Merc comes in, he’ll wet himself.”
Reese didn’t think there was any such plan in place. He thought Carter was flexing his muscles a little, taking the lead, for once. It wasn’t Reese’s business in either case.
“I told you!” Jimmy said. “We took my dad’s boat. And you fucking psychos–”
A hand landed on the top of his head; rested almost gently over his hair. It was Tenny, who’d paced around the perimeter of the shop and melted forward out of the shadows, his cheeks hollow in the gloom, his eyes gleaming like blue glass.
He tsked. “Manners, manners.”
Jimmy’s eyes rolled upward, but he didn’t move his head, frozen beneath Tenny’s bare touch.
“You aren’t in any position to be throwing that kind of language around.”
Jimmy swallowed, shaking all over. He wet his lips. “Your voice. It’s you.”
“Who, me?” Tenny asked innocently, shifting into the rough American accent he’d used the night he and Reese spooked Jimmy and his friend.
One of the others – still gagged – whipped his head around, gaze rolling as he tried to catch a glimpse of Tenny.
Reese’s hands curled to fists at his sides. Tenny was being reckless, giving himself away like this. They’d had their faces painted that night; none of these three would have recognized them if they’d kept quiet.
But Tenny was a showman. He’d been trained as one. He’d been playing as one that night in Amarillo when he got shot; when he’d been bored, and stupid, and nearly died, his blood pouring out between Reese’s fingers.
Carter said, “I would take his advice. You aren’t the one in the driver’s seat here. And if you want to start talking police, you’re the one who snuck onto private property – and cut your way through two gates.” He glanced toward Boomer. “What was in their bags?”
“Besides the bolt cutters?” One of them had been carrying a backpack, and Boomer upended it on a work table. A few flash drives clattered down onto the surface, a can of spray paint, and a camera.
Carter’s eyes widened, fractionally, before he smoothed his features and glanced back. “Gonna leave some real creative insults on our wall and then take pics to show your friends at school?”
Jimmy’s throat moved as he swallowed; his lips pressed together into a thin line, and he didn’t answer.
“I heard you were bragging about having some kinda photo evidence we took Allie,” Carter said, and Reese could feel his own surprise echoed by the others in the room – save for Tenny, who hovered, unmoving, shiny gaze trained on the back of Jimmy’s neck. “You thought you’d bring your camera, get the shots you needed, download Photoshop and go to town, huh?”
No answer, again.
“Why are you so hellbent on convincing everyone the Dogs did this?” Carter asked. “None of us have ever even laid eyes on you. The club doesn’t own a shop that competes with your dad’s. You’re trying to get every kid at your school against us – and for what? As cover? You killed Allie Henderson and now you want us to take the fall for it?”
Fear flashed in his eyes. He took in another sharp breath, but he held his tongue.
One of the other boys had bowed his head, and closed his eyes, tears glimmering on his cheeks.
“Just tell me,” Carter said. “You aren’t strong or brave enough to handle what’ll happen if you don’t.”
Jimmy wet his lips again, but hesitated.
Tenny didn’t. He closed his hand into a fist in Jimmy’s hair, and yanked the boy’s head back, startling a yell from him. His other hand whipped into view, knife glinting in the glow of the cage lights, and he pressed the naked blade against the boy’s exposed throat. Hard enough to dent the skin.
Jimmy sucked in a harsh breath.
“Don’t move,” Tenny said, pleasantly. His gaze was wild with malice. “You’ll cut yourself.”
One of the other boys shouted behind his duct tape, struggling fruitlessly at his bonds.
Shock pressed grooves around Carter’s mouth. He was losing control of the situation, and probably didn’t know how to get it back.
Jimmy’s chest worked in desperate gasps, hands twitching, whole body vibrating, save his head and neck, held rigidly still. Reese could see his pulse in his throat, running rabbit-fast against the edge of the knife.
“I don’t think you understand,” Tenny said. “You don’t have any leverage here. There’s no police, no concerned citizens. No Daddy Dearest to shield you. You are tied