Thomas cradled his bleeding hand against his chest, glaring at the man who blocked the front door. He didn’t bother hiding his fury. If anyone deserved it, it was the one responsible for so much of Andre’s grief, and if goading Perry Nezat gave Andre time to get farther away, Thomas was more than happy to do it.
“You’re an i***t,” he spat. “Andre isn’t even here.”
“For now,” Perry conceded. “But he’ll be back. He’s marked this entire property as his.” The corner of his narrow mouth tipped. The physical similarities to Andre were distorted, like someone had picked up a clay version of Andre and squished him to make this cousin. The pale eyes that haunted Thomas’s dreams were small and beady, glittering with a half-mad intelligence that would have put him off even if he hadn’t known the gu
