He doesn’t let me get a word in before he flashes the gun at me then jams it back into Sierra’s spine. She winces when he does, and I want to kill him so bad at that moment that it scares even me. I’ve never wanted to truly kill someone before, but right now, I would find no greater joy in the world than watching this piece of scum suffer in a slow, painful death.

“Let her go,” I growl.

“Not a fucking chance,” he snaps back. “You stole my shit!”

I put my hands up toward him because I can see him losing it. He’s erratic, too erratic for my comfort while he’s got that weapon on her. All I can think is how I’m going to get that thing off her, even if it means putting it on me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say gently, careful not to rile him up.

“The fuck you don’t. You took my supply, twice now, you piece of shit! The whole fucking stock!” He’s shaking, and Sierra has her eyes clenched shut in fear. How the fuck have I gotten her back into this shit? I wanted her safe and gone from my life, but this dick dragged her right back. And for that he will pay.

“Why would I take your stock? I don’t sell anymore. Ask anyone.”

“You must think I’m so stupid,” Hale spits back at me. “You did it as payback, you piece of fucking white trash. You’re not smarter than me. You stole my supply, and now they’re on my ass, and because of you, they did this shit to my fucking face!” He motions to the swelling around his lips and eyes, and I grit my teeth together to stop myself from fighting with him.

I didn’t take his supply, but I know what he’s referring to. When I lost my stash back during spring break with Sierra, he was the one who stole it from me. Rafe helped me figure it out. He clued me in on the tracking app Hale had embedded onto my phone as a means of keeping tabs on me. When I ditched the bonfire that night—the bonfire I was supposed to be selling at—Hale found me and did one better. Framed me for losing his supply and made me pay it back with the sale of my bike.

“Why don’t you put down the gun?” I suggest gently. I need to keep him busy at this point and buy us time.

“Fuck you!” He snaps, jabbing the gun tighter against her back. Her eyes widen in terror.

“What do you want me to do?” I yell back. We’re hidden in the narrow alley by his car on one side and a pair of dumpsters on the other.

“I want you to get these assholes off my back!” He glances around like he expects them to be watching him.

“I’ll help you. I promise. Just let her go. You don’t need her anymore.” I step closer and in response, he steps back again.