Tyler and I had fallen into a rhythm—him breaking locks, me helping the victims stand, checking for injuries, offering water from my canteen. The work was slow, heartbreaking. Some of them couldn't walk. Some couldn't stop crying. One woman just kept repeating a name—"Maria, Maria, Maria"—like a prayer.
The girl who'd reached through the bars was named Ana. Seventeen, from Guatemala. She'd been in that cage for three weeks. "Almost there," I told her, helping her sit against the wall with the others. "We're going to get everyone out, and then?—"
"Well, well, well."
The voice made my blood freeze. Slash stood in the doorway, gun in hand, face twisted with hatred. His nose was crooked—permanently broken from Axel's fists—and his eyes had the wild, cornered look of a man with nothing left to lose.
"Thought you could take everything from me?" He stepped into the room, weapon tracking between me and Tyler. "My crew, my reputation, my fuckingface?"
Tyler moved to put himself between Slash and the victims. "It's over, Slash. Viper's dead. Your boys are dead. Walk away."
"Walk away?" Slash laughed—a high, unhinged sound. "To what? Chen's going to have me killed the second I'm not useful. Viper was my only protection, and you—" His gun swung to me. "You started all of this. That night in the parking lot. If you'd just let Reaper bleed out like you should have?—"
"Then someone else would have stopped you." I kept my voice steady, even as my heart raced. "Men like you always get stopped eventually."
"Men like me?" He moved closer, gun aimed at my chest. "Pretty boy nurse who thinks he can play gangster? You have no idea what men like me are capable of."
"I know exactly what you're capable of." I thought of the cages. The hollow eyes. Ana's bird-bone fingers. "I've seen it."
"Then you know I've got nothing to lose." He raised the gun.
Tyler moved first—lunging for Slash's weapon arm, deflecting the shot. The bullet went wide, sparking off a cage. The victims screamed, scrambling for cover.
The tactical pen was in my hand before I consciously reached for it. Tyler had Slash's gun arm locked, but Slash was strong—stronger than he looked—and he was breaking free. I drove the pen into his shoulder. He screamed, grip loosening. Tyler wrenched the gun away, kicked his legs out. Slash hit the ground hard.
But he wasn't done. A knife appeared in his other hand—pulled from somewhere I hadn't seen—and he slashed upward. Tyler jerked back, the blade catching his forearm, blood spraying.
"Tyler!"
"I'm fine—get him!"
Slash was scrambling to his feet, knife weaving. Blood poured from his shoulder, but his eyes were fixed on me with absolute hatred.
"You first," he snarled. "Then your brother. Then everyone you've ever?—"
I hit him. Not with the pen. With my fist—a straight right that connected with his broken nose. He howled, stumbled back. I followed, years of Tyler's training taking over. Elbow to the solarplexus. Knee to the groin. He doubled over, and I grabbed his head, drove it into my rising knee.
He went down. Stayed down. But his hand was still moving, still reaching for the knife?—
Tyler's foot came down on his wrist. I heard bones crack. "Stay down," Tyler said, breathing hard. "It's over."
Slash looked up at me. Blood poured from his nose, his shoulder, his wrist now shattered once more. But his eyes still burned with hatred.
"It's never over," he spat. "Chen will?—"
"Chen will what?" I crouched down, meeting his eyes. "Protect you? You just said she'd have you killed. You're nothing to her. You're nothing to anyone."
"Fuck you."
"No." I picked up his fallen knife. Felt the weight of it in my hand. "You broke into my home. Threatened my life. Helped run an operation that put children in cages." I pressed the blade against his throat. "Give me one reason I shouldn't end you right now."
He didn't have one. I could see it in his eyes—the dawning realization that all his cruelty, all his violence, had led him here. To a concrete floor. To the mercy of a man he'd underestimated.
"Kai." Tyler's voice was quiet. "You don't have to do this."
"I know." I held Slash's gaze. "But I'm going to."
The blade moved.
