yes. That I can stick with the plan I had after my father went missing.
“Why do you want to find the treasure?” I ask Stone, narrowing my gaze. “Is it all about the money?”
Stone’s gray-blue eyes sear a brand into my flesh. Before he can say anything, Wyatt answers, “Of course it’s all about the money. What else would it be?”
I try to scrape away the hard surface of Stone’s skin to see what’s underneath. The hidden stuff is always the most important, and he’s teeming with secrets. Wyatt and Lucas are the same. The three of them are like science experiments, ones that could go very, very wrong.
Lucas runs his hands through his hair, looking every bit the part of alley cat. I heard him talk earlier. It was nothing really. A simple exchange. He dropped his pen and the girl sitting next to him picked it up. When he said thank you, the girl who picked it up promptly turned to her friend and fanned her face. She wasn’t wrong. His voice is rich and deep. I guess there’s a good reason why my father kept me away from these guys.
“We have our reasons.” He reaches out to grab one of my curls, giving it a quick tug in his hand to straighten the strands of hair and then letting them bounce back. It reminds me of what the boys used to do to me in elementary school. “What I never understood is why the Wilders think their reasons are more important. Like you’re somehow better than us.” His voice bleeds through me, leaving an aftertaste of tang.
“We just don’t like the way you go about things. Obviously,” I say, pulling my shoulders back. “You guys are blackmailing me for my family’s stuff.”
The guys laugh, sending a shiver through me. They don’t have a care in the world about me or my family or what they do to get the treasure, do they? My family does, though. At least we still have morals, even if we are single-minded.
I wish I could slap the grins right off their faces. I smirk at Lucas. “Did Wyatt tell you what happened this morning?”
Their humor dies in an instant.
My lips curl up. “He met my friend Dickie...and his gun.”
I don’t really know what I’m trying to say to shut them up. I don’t know that Dickie would’ve actually shot him. I mean, maybe. Or maybe I’m trying to tell them getting me on board won’t be so easy. I do have some friends. Well, a friend. A friend who doesn’t mind aiming guns at people to protect me. It’s a reminder that they’re not the ones who have all the power.
Stone licks his lips. “You’re too cute. He told us about your one and only ally being an old man with a vision problem. Maybe you’d like to see what my father is capable of before you start bringing other people into the line of fire. I’m sure you’d be upset if something happened to Dickie.”
A rush of cold air swamps me, tingling the tips of my extremities. It’s a douse of reality that I’m way out of my league with these guys. Before I can think twice, I reach out and slap Stone Jacobs. “Don’t you dare—”
Wyatt and Lucas grab my arms, dragging me down a barely used hallway. My feet slide over the tile, trying to gain purchase, but they’re holding me just high enough so I can’t plant my feet. My bruised shoulder pings painfully, but I grit my jaw. No way will I show them a weakness.
Stone stalks after us, a smile on his face with a blooming splotch of red on his cheek. They move me around an ornate stone stairwell. In the shadows, they hover around me while my heart ricochets against my rib cage. To my left is a small window with a hole-riddled screen over it, kind of like the divider that separates the sinner from the priest while making confession. A quick check of the area, and I’m fully aware the guys are blocking the only way out. Not that I could struggle out of their strong grips anyway, but I would give them a damn good fight if there was a shot.
“What do you want?” I growl, still trying to yank free. Regardless of whether I think I can escape or not, I’m not going to be their little puppet either.
“Shh,” Stone says, then lifts his gaze to the window.