Chapter 6 · Rafe Knows Where Jonah Went

"You gonna say something?" I ask.

Rafe's claws are out. Not all the way—just enough that I can see the tips pressing through his knuckles, black and sharp under the single bulb hanging from the ceiling. He's standing between me and the only way out of this room, and his eyes haven't left my face since Jonah's voice cut off.

My hand's still on the recorder. The plastic case is warm from running, and I'm gripping it too hard.

"Or are we just doing the staring thing until I try something stupid?"

Rafe doesn't answer right away. His jaw works like he's chewing on words he doesn't want to say. Finally, he exhales through his nose and takes one step to the side. Not much. Just enough that I could maybe slip past him if I moved fast.

I don't move.

"Your brother's not wrong," Rafe says. His voice is rougher than it was upstairs. "I was sent after him. Eight years ago. I was supposed to make sure he didn't talk."

My stomach drops. Hearing it from Jonah's recording was one thing. Hearing Rafe admit it is different.