I spit blood onto the floor. “You run outta luck.”
He cocks the gun, aiming for Harlow’s heart. “Say goodbye.”
Everything inside me goes silent. The world shrinks to one sharp point. I launch myself at Grudge, throwing all my weight and rage into the tackle. We go down in a tangle of limbs. His gunskitters across the floor. He’s strong, heavier, but I fight dirty with a knee to his gut and an elbow to his jaw. I cast around for anything I can use as a weapon.
A shot rings out close, earsplitting. I flinch, waiting for pain, but it’s not me. Harlow’s gun is up, hands steady. One of the Vultures behind me jerks and drops. The distraction is all I need.
I drive my fist into Grudge’s throat. He chokes, gags, but rallies fast. His fist slams into my wounded shoulder and fuck if I don’t see Jesus and the pearly gates for all of a few seconds. White pain shatters my vision when I come back to my senses. I howl through the pain as red fury colors my sight.
“Cipher!” Harlow screams.
I see the glint of steel just in time. Grudge’s knife flashes toward my gut. I catch his wrist, twist until bones grind, then slam my knee into his face. Blood splatters everywhere, a hot and sticky mess that makes me happy.
The room tilts, smoke and snow and chaos blurring at the edges.
Two more Vultures close in, guns raised. Harlow is a blur of motion in my peripheral as she dives for the fallen gun, comes up shooting. I roll, scoop up Grudge’s gun, and fire, dropping the man closest to her. The last one makes a grab for her, shoving her to the ground.
“No!” I lunge, body screaming in protest, and wrap an arm around the man’s throat. We crash to the floor, wrestling for control. My wounded shoulder is numb now, useless, but I clamp my legs around his chest and choke until he goes still.
Panting for air and bloodied, I stagger to my feet. Harlow is on her knees, hair wild, cheeks streaked with tears and soot. Grudge staggers upright, blood pouring from his nose.
“It’s over, Grudge,” I rasp, gun leveled at his beating heart. “Call off your boys. You’re done.”
He spits at my feet, hate in every line of his battered face. “I’ll die before I let a Savage take what’s mine.”
“So be it.”
He lunges. His last desperate move forces me to be the monster I have to be in order to protect the woman I love. I squeeze the trigger. The gun’s report is a thunderclap in the ruined cabin. Grudge crumples to the floor, a dark stain spreading across his chest.
For a moment, all I hear is the crackle of fire and the heaving rasp of my own breath.
I stagger to Harlow, falling to my knees beside her. Blood stains her hands, but I don't care. She reaches for me, sobs shuddering through her body, and I pull her close, burying my face in her hair.
“We made it,” I whisper, voice shaking. “Jesus, we fucking made it.”
She clings to me, trembling, but alive. Together.
I help her up, wrapping my good arm around her waist. The cabin is a smoldering ruin of glass and ash, bullet holes and memories. Grudge’s black book is nothing but ash, too. The snow outside glows orange, stained by firelight.
I manage a crooked grin, adrenaline giving way to exhaustion. “Sorry we ruined your inherited cabin, baby. I didn’t mean for this to turn bloody.”
She gives off a laugh that sounds a little broken, but it’s still beautiful to me. She rises to her toes and presses her lips to my cheek.
“It needed a new interior anyway. All those windows and that pretty polished wood? Overrated.”
The pain in my shoulder throbs, but I don’t let go of her. Not now. Not ever again.
She glances at the embers, regret flickering in her blue eyes. “Sorry about the book. We’re back at square one.”
I shake my head. “Not quite. The chemist and whatever’s on your phone is our lead now. Reaper and the crew will rebuild everything and besides, I scanned everything that’s in the book.”
Harlow’s eyes brighten. “Wait—there’s something else.” She ducks back into the burned shell of the cabin, ignoring my protest, and comes back with a closed manila envelope. “I don’t know what this is, but it was in my car when I came out of the Den earlier tonight. Or last night. What time is it? Never mind. I was so mad at you I forgot about this.”
I take the envelope, flipping it over in my bloodied fingers. “What is it? Is it from the chemist?”
She lifts a shoulder. “I don’t think so, the writing on the front doesn’t match hers.” She flips it over and points to her name scribbled across the front.
Hope and exhaustion mingle in her gaze. “I don’t know what’s inside, but how about we find out together?”
