A cold, prickly wave of irritation washes over me. I step out from beside Locke, crossing my arms over my chest, looking straight into his eyes.
"Don't do that," I say. "Don't sweep it under the rug like we're kids who can't handle the truth. We stood in this room for two hours thinking everyone was dead, and we watched Stitch dig a bullet out of Bishop’s leg right on that sofa. You brought the blood into this house, Locke."
Jade nods emphatically beside me, her green eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger.
"Exactly! You brought us into the situation. You can't give us front-row seats to the nightmare and then tell us to close our eyes the second you decide that’s enough."
“Jade, drop it.” Mayhem stands up off the barstool, his massive frame towering over his wife, his hands resting o
