“You were supposed to turn to me, Piper,” Mark snapped. “I saved the day. You were supposed to be grateful to me. You were supposed to come back to me. I wanted you all this time. I waited for you. I set this whole stage so that you’d see I was the protector you needed. You were supposed to come back to me.”

Piper was staring straight at Eric. She saw his rage and his fear and his deadly determination.

“Not him! Stop focusing on him!” A scream from Mark. “Face me!”

She slowly turned toward Mark. He’d staggered to his feet and he seemed to be favoring his left leg. Savagely, Piper hoped she’d freaking shattered his knee cap.

With one hand, he held on to the chair, and with the other, he gripped a gun. Mark laughed when he saw her gaze fall to his weapon. “Had it hidden at my work station. Just in case, you know. I-I don’t like guns. They’re too rough, too loud, but they can get the job done. I don’t like them, though, I like—”

“You like knives, don’t you?” Eric called out.

Mark flinched.

“You like knives…just like the one you used on your sister.”

The gun trembled in Mark’s grasp.

Shock rolled through Piper. His sister?

“Eleven stab wounds,” Eric added fiercely. “That’s a very precise number.”

Was Eric closer? His voice definitely sounded closer. She hadn’t heard the sound of his feet moving…ninja skills.

“Your sister had eleven wounds. Just like Grady Fox did.”

“Shut up!” Mark yelled. Spittle flew from his mouth.

“And you were the one to find your sister’s body.” Eric’s voice pounded at him. “Or at least, that’s what you told the cops. You found her. But I’m thinking you were just there when she was attacked. Because you’re the bastard who killed her!”

“Shut up!” Mark lifted the gun higher. Aimed it right at Piper’s head. “And stop walking! Don’t move again! Stay where you are or I will shoot her!”

She could feel Eric behind her.

“You hurt Piper,” Eric said, his voice going quiet and cold. “All along, it was you.”

Her breath came fast. “Why?”

“I needed you back!”

“Why did you start drinking, Mark?” Eric asked, the words even softer. “It wasn’t because your sister was dead, was it? It was because you couldn’t stomach what you’d done.”

But Mark laughed. “No, you’re so wrong. It was because I wanted to do it again. I liked it. I liked it when she screamed. She was always such an uppity bitch. The golden child while I was just the tattooed freak. I stopped that. I stopped her. And I wanted to do it again, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t…”