"Cyrus! Don't you dare play dumb! Tell your people to put him down!"
Her eyes were bloodshot, and beneath her rage was pure, explosive fury.
Her grip crushed my breath, yet I felt no fear.
Far from it, actually.
I just laughed maniacally.
"You haven't made your choice yet," I said through clenched teeth. "How could I possibly let him go?"
She faltered, fingers trembling slightly around my neck.
Rory knew I meant it.
Jesse's life rested entirely on her decision.
"You're insane… a complete lunatic!" she shouted.
Her words hung in the air, but she could not decide.
Slowly, she released her grip, swinging the car door open, intent on running to save him.
And that's when I noticed her left hand, the one missing its pinky.
A bitter, mocking laugh escaped my throat.
"Rory…" I murmured.
"What are you trying to—" she shouted back.
But before she could finish, a heart-wrenching, guttural sob tore from her throat. Her face contorted in agony, and I couldn't stop a small, cruel laugh from slipping past my lips.
My hands, though, moved deliberately.
The knife I'd inserted into her uterus stayed steady in my grip.