Kylie’s whimper kicked Devon into gear. He slipped out of his holster, tossing the SIG onto the bedsheets, heel-toeing his shit-kickers to the carpet in front of him.
“Happy?” he bit out, holding his hands at his side in concession.
Fagan’s laugh curled around the air like a filthy dishrag. “Let’s see. I damn near had my nose broken, courtesy of this dirty whore”—his grip over Kylie’s body dug tighter at the mention of the blue-black bruise swelling beneath one eye—“I’ve wasted manpower and money chasing your asses all over the fucking map, and I had to cash in the mother of all favors in order to finally nail your location. Fucking DEA agents. They might be good, but they’re not goddamn cheap.”
Realization cemented Devon’s breath to his lungs. “You bought off one of the agents on the field team?”
“That took you long enough,” Fagan said, his voice overloaded with sarcasm. “You think just because we’re in a big city, DEA agents can’t be bought? Shit. I’ve got news for you, Randolph. Everyone can be bought. I only wish I had more time to punish your little whore, here, for dragging me through the expense. I bet she screams so sweet.”
He leaned in to place an evil grin on Kylie’s temple, and it took every last ounce of Devon’s self-restraint not to just say fuck it and try to murder Fagan with his bare hands. “You’ve made your point.”
“Have I? Because I want to be sure you know exactly how this is going to shake out. I’ve got five, maybe six minutes before the DEA swarms this place. Which means I only have two to kill the both of you. Lover’s quarrel. Murder-suicide.” Fagan paused, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “So sad. But if either one of you fights me, or even so much as looks at me sideways, I’m going to make sure that pain in the ass best friend of yours and every last person left in your Army unit all have very unfortunate accidents.”
Kylie’s eyes rounded in terror, as if she were finally shaking off a fog. Her body tensed, her steps jerky as Fagan kicked at her feet to steer her farther into the center of the room.
If you move…
…I’ll kill you just as slowly…
All of you will die today.
No. No.
Kylie trusted him. He trusted himself. All Devon needed was an opening.
Which, of course, he didn’t have.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Fagan said, loosening his grip on Kylie just enough to stick her with a glittering black stare. “I’ll even do you first so we can get this over with quick. Remember what I said about making a fuss. You scream, and I’ll gut your brother like a pig.”
He took his hand off Kylie’s mouth, and her eyes landed on Devon’s.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
The gun was out of his waistband on pure, primal instinct. He registered the press of cold steel, the squeeze of his muscles forming one fluid move, the stop-motion image of the crease between Fagan’s eyebrows.
Devon shot him between the eyes in the span of a heartbeat.
“Oh, my God!” Kylie let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a sob. “Oh, my God, oh, my God. Devon!” She launched herself at him, her voice breaking with emotion and relief.
He put a quick visual on Fagan even though he knew he’d landed a kill shot, and yeah, the guy wasn’t ever getting up. Devon still went through protocol, kicking Fagan’s gun far out of reach before turning back to Kylie.
“Jesus, Kylie. Are you hurt? Baby, let me look at you.” Devon loosened his grip on his nine mil, his hands coasting over her in fear and relief.
“I’m okay,” she said, although she let him turn her so her line of sight didn’t include Fagan’s body. “I’m?—”
The door exploded inward on a burst of noise. “DEA! Don’t move!”
Devon shielded Kylie, his gun back in hand within seconds. “My name is Devon Randolph, and this is your witness, Kylie Walker. Your man down is Xavier Fagan. The scene is secure.”
Fortunately, nobody got chippy with him, because the next two people spilling through the door were a female detective and Kellan, both wearing body armor and both looking furious.
“Kylie!” Kellan elbowed past the agent who had stopped to secure Fagan’s body, throwing his arms around his sister. “Shit, Ky, you’re bleeding. Moreno, you need to roll an ambo out here, like now.”
Kylie shook her head. “I’m fine, Kellan. I mean, Fagan rang my bell a little, but all things considered, I think he got the worse end of the deal,” she said.
Kellan chuffed out a laugh. “You must be okay if you’re being a pain in the ass.”
The female detective, Moreno according to the nameplate on her body armor, grabbed a towel from the bathroom, passing it to Kellan so he could administer first aid. “What the hell happened here? How did Fagan find you?”
