The Devil Inside

30: The Bonds of Brotherhood

Calla knew she likely faced certain death, yet all she could really think about was how badly her hand was starting to sweat.

She wiggled her fingers, but Cooper's hold on her remained firm. Immovable. She risked a glance at him; his expression was frozen into one of stunned disbelief.

For Calla, the initial shock had already worn off. And as it did, several pieces of what had previously seemed like an impossible puzzle started to fall into place.

"Mike?" Cooper repeated uncertainly. Mike hovered over Stephanie's shoulder, the look on his face one of absolute misery. "What are you doing here?"

The question hung in the air between them. Stephanie cackled, delighted.

Her laugh faltered when Calla said, "He came here for his brother."

Mike's eyes snapped to her face, wary. Beside him, Stephanie pouted. "Please. You don't know anything."

Calla felt as though that were true. Stephanie had played her for the fool—just as Mike's brother had played him, turning the girl he'd loved into a stranger. Calla didn't know the first thing about heartbreak. But she'd endured humiliation, and she knew what it was to want revenge.

But revenge hadn't brought her here, to this gymnasium. Not really. And she didn't think it had brought Mike Richardson here, either.

Cooper squeezed her hand. The simple gesture emboldened her enough to say, "I know you're partly responsible for what happened to Jessica. I also know, as pissed as Mike's been at his brother, he wouldn't risk his future on some petty revenge scheme."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Stephanie hedged, leaning forward. "People can be so nasty sometimes."

"Sometimes," Calla amended. "But not this time. You thought you could convince him to blackmail his brother, get Blake to do your dirty work behind the scenes. And Mike would play along because of what happened with Jess." Calla smiled at the look of surprise that flashed across Stephanie's face. "But that didn't work, did it? Mike turned you down cold."

Mike's chin lifted infinitesimally—a flash of pride. Stephanie twisted around to pin him with a furious glare, nostrils flared.

"But why involve Mike at all?" Cooper asked quietly. The words were for Calla and Calla alone. "Why not just go directly to Blake—"

"She didn't want to get her hands dirty," Calla replied, just as softly. Recruiting Mike had been a risk, but a necessary one. In doing so, Stephanie had secured her role as the obscure puppetmaster. The sea of bad blood that lay between the twins had been her buffer. Her safety net.

"But Blake already knows Steph's involved." Cooper's brow was furrowed in thought. "Doesn't he? Tom said so."

Blake had discovered the truth, then—or a very small part of it. Mike must have warned his brother. And if he had...

Does Stephanie know he went behind her back?

"What are you two whispering about?" Stephanie demanded, waving the gun with a nonchalant flick of her wrist. "We don't keep secrets around here."

"Really?" Cooper asked. "Because I kind of feel like that's all we do."

"You're right." She crossed to the center of the court, whistling a merry tune. Cooper's fingers convulsed around hers as Stephanie leveled the barrel of the gun at Vincent's temple. "Let's have a little tell-all, shall we? Starting with...Calla."

No. Calla grimaced as a peal of laughter rang within the confines of her skull. Yes, Tracy sang. Tell them, Calla. Tell them what you did to me.