Page 24 of Redemption
“Yes, and I also have zip ties.”
Why he has them, I have no fucking idea, but I can’t help but grin. “Excellent. Those will work perfectly.”
“Who the fuck is that guy?” The kid tries to jerk around to get a look, but my grip on the back of his neck keeps him facing the direction I choose.
“You don’t get to ask questions. You’re lucky to be alive. For now.”
“Fucking kill me then. I don’t care. I ain’t telling you shit.”
“You already did, kid. You’re a terrible shot, by the way.”
With a shove, I propel him toward the SUV. My brother is already popping the back hatch and returning with a pack of long, clear zip ties.
“Planning a kidnapping?” I ask as he pulls a few out and proceeds to slide them around the wrists of the shooter and then his ankles.
The familiar zipping sound is the only response I get at first.
Once the kid’s wrists are secured, his reply is matter-of-fact. “Preparation is the key to success.”
I give the zip ties another yank to drive them tighter against the kid’s skin.
“I like you even more already.”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” the shooter asks as he nearly cranes his neck, trying to get a better look at him.
“Get the duct tape. He doesn’t need to see or hear.”
“Wait!” The kid struggles against my hold and the zip ties when he realizes we’re about to stuff him in the back of the SUV. “No! Just fucking kill me here! Leave me here!”
My brother returns with a roll of black duct tape, rips off several inches, and hands it to me.
I slap it over the kid’s mouth as his eyes go wild.
“Don’t try to kill the boogeyman and fail. That’s when things get very scary for you.”
I look at my brother. “Give me the roll.”
With a nod, he tosses it to me. Fear fills the bright blue eyes of the kid who stares back at me.
“Trying to die before you’re even old enough to shave?” I ask as I yank a strip free and slap the end over one ear before wrapping it around his head to the other, covering his eyes last.
Like we’ve worked as a team before, my brother grasps the boy’s other arm, and we load him into the SUV. His body flails, but my brother pulls the kid’s back against his chest as he wraps an arm under his throat. It happens so fast; all I can do is blink.
“Go to sleep,” he says.
The kid’s legs quit flailing as I stare, wide-eyed, at my brother.
“Did you just?—”
My brother shakes his head. “Of course not. He’s unconscious. He’ll be fine when he comes to.”
What the fuck is happening to my life? Who is this man who looks like me?
Suddenly, Keira’s reservations and questions seem a hell of a lot more pertinent than they did yesterday.
“Where did you learn to?—”
“We should go. Quickly. Get your friend’s ashes. I’ll get the kid’s gun.”
