Mason picked up the gun, feeling the weight of the revolver. It wasn’t dissimilar to his own gun, which he’d left inside his Mustang. He turned to his sister. “Evie, I need you to promise you’ll always be there for Amy.”
Evie shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please, don’t—”
“Just do it. She’s going to need you.” Mason took a deep breath, raised the gun to his temple, and counted backward from three.
Evie screamed as he squeezed the trigger.
Click.
Nothing.
Mason dropped it, staring at his own shaking hand. “I’m sorry.”
“What a disappointment.” Wendell laughed from behind him. “Evelyn, honey, you’re up.”
Evie was next to pick it up. She glanced to her left, where Joshua sat with his head down. For a moment, it looked like she considered letting him take the bullet, but if Mason knew her at all—and he liked to think he did—she would always put anyone before herself, even that lousy Joshua.
Without any tear-filled words of goodbye, Evie put the gun to her own head and clenched her finger. Icy tension silenced the room for the seconds it took the bullet to explode from the revolver.
But it didn’t. In its place was only a single, gut-wrenching click.
Joshua rushed for the gun, prying it from Evie’s hand. He looked down at it for a long time. Mason thought he was preparing himself to take the bullet. It was doubtful he’d ever held a gun before.
But then came screams of protest came from all around the table as he aimed it at Sandra.
“What’re you—Why?” Sandra asked, confusion sparkling in her wet eyes.
“Sorry,” Joshua said as he squeezed the trigger with an empty click and dropped the gun.
“You son of a bitch!” Mason yelled at him. “You goddamn coward!”
Joshua said nothing, only sat with his head buried in his arms.
“Now we know a little something about Joshua,” Alison Wendell said, still laughing. “I wonder if that might make you think twice during round two.”
Round two? Mason shuddered at the idea. How many rounds are there?
When Sandra took the gun in her hands and looked to the person on her left—Ben, swallowing hard and avoiding eye contact—Mason couldn’t hold his tongue.
“Listen to me, Sandra. Whatever you do, don’t take the fall for this one. This man is the reason you’re here. Don’t you dare put yourself at risk for this piece of shit.”
Sandra shook her head, still hurt from Joshua’s betrayal. “I can’t kill anyone.”
“You might not have to,” Mason said, though he doubted it. Three of the five empty chambers had come up empty. The odds were slimming, and he tried not to think about poor Luke, who sat next to him, so silent you’d barely know he was there. “Just pretend it’s a toy, look at the scumbag who wants to hurt you, and—”
The revolver blasted in her hands. A splash of scarlet exploded from Ben’s head as the bullet struck. His body collapsed to one side and slumped over the arm of the chair. Sandra dropped the gun and raised her hands to her mouth, screaming like a banshee.
“Well,” Wendell said, “I can’t say he won’t be missed.” She traipsed over to the table, picked up the gun, and slid another bullet in the chamber. She spun the cylinder and laid it back on the table.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mason spat, his blood boiling. If only she’d confessed by now, not a single person would’ve had to die. On some level, he expected the police to burst in right about now. Had they not heard the shot? Were they even outside?
“We’re going to do this over and over until everybody’s dead. Got it?” Wendell went back to the wall without letting her guard down. “Oh, and this time we’re reversing the direction. Sandra, it’s your turn again, sweetheart.”