He hits the wall sliding down, leaving a dark smear behind as he crumples to the floor.
The silence afterward is worse than the noise before.
Malcolm’s hands are on my shoulders, his voice in my ear, but it sounds distant, muted, like I’m hearing him through water. My knees finally give out. The gun slips from my fingers as I hit the concrete hard.
And that’s it.
Everything I’ve been holding in for weeks finally tears loose.
The sound that rips out of me is wrecked and raw. I fold forward, clutching my ribs like I can physically keep myself from coming apart. My parents. Ty. Blood streaked across the floor of the house I grew up in. Herrera. Tony. The betrayal. All of it crashes through me at once.
Malcolm moves to grab me.
“Don’t,” I choke. “Please… don’t.”
He freezes.
Then he does something I don’t expect.
He backs off.
One step. Then another.
He stays close enough that I feel him there, but far enough to give me space. To let me break without being restrained, without being watched too closely.
My shoulders shake so hard I can barely breathe.
“They’re still gone,” I sob. “I killed them… but my family’s still gone.
”No one interrupts.
No one rushes me.
Maverick turns his back slightly, already pulling his phone out. “Yeah,” he says quietly into it. “It’s done… No, not just you. I want the whole damn team. Burn unit, transport, all of it.”
A pause.
“Warehouse on Jonesboro. We’ll secure it till you get here.”
He hangs up, turning to Malcolm. “Dementor’s bringing everyone. This place will disappear.”
Good.
That’s what it deserves.
Maverick crouches a few feet in front of me, just enough that I don’t feel trapped. “You did right by your family,” he says quietly.
I lift my head enough to look at him.
“You didn’t have to come,” I say. “You didn’t have to risk your brothers. Your club.”
His eyes don’t waver. “Yeah. We did.”
My throat tightens.
“Thank you for having my back.”
He nods once.
