He releases the front of Jimmy’s shirt, then holds themup, palms out, empty, his posture changing in a way that makes my stomach drop. It’s not surrender exactly, but more like he knows that every move he makes matters now.
“Let’s talk,” Warren says, and Jimmy’s face crumples.
It’s sudden and ugly and completely uncontained. “Talk?” The young alpha’s eyes fill with tears, his mouth twisting as he lets out a sound that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Nowyou want to talk?” he yells, pressing the barrel up and into the underside of Warren’s jaw. “I hate that you made me do this.” His arm trembles as if it might give out. “I hate that you fucking forced me to do this.”
“I know,” Warren says gently. “And I’m sorry.”
“I just wanted you to notice me,” Jimmy says, voice breaking. “That’s all. That’s all I ever wanted.”
My heartbeat rises in my throat, making my stomach churn.
Warren nods once. “I hear you,” he says. “I do. But you need to lower the gun, Jimmy.”
“No!” Jimmy snaps, tears spilling now, streaking down his flushed face. “You never hear me. You hear everyone else. You see everyone else.” He laughs again, sharp and hysterical. “I admired you, you know that? All I wanted was to make you proud.”
My bond is a screaming mess, Warren’s calm stretched razor-thin over something furious and terrified beneath it. But he doesn’t move.
“I admired you,” Jimmy says, quieter, shaking the gun as if to emphasize each word. “The way you handle things. How strong you are. The way youlead.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “You’re better than him.” He takes a breath. “So much fucking better.”
Beck’s phone buzzes softly somewhere behind me, but I don’t look back at him. I can’t take my eyes off Warren.
“Jimmy,” Warren says, still calm, still careful. “This isn’t the way to do this.”
“I love you,” Jimmy blurts.
His words land like a fucking bomb. Loud. Shattering.
My breath locks in my chest.
Warren doesn’t flinch, but something changes in his eyes. “Jimmy, I?—”
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jimmy barrels on, voice climbing, unraveling. “Cass doesn’t deserve you. He doesn't appreciate you. He doesn’t—Fuck! You do all the work anyway, Warren. You hold everything together. He’s weak.” Jimmy scoffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, the gun dipping for half a second before snapping back up. “I couldn’t believe you didn’t overtake him when you had the chance.”
My knees feel hollow. Beck squeezes my wrist again, harder, but I still can’t tear my eyes away.
“Put the gun down,” Warren says, firmer now. “You don’t want to do this.”
“I already did!” Jimmy shouts. His eyes are wild now, unfocused. “I tried to fix it. I really did. I even tried to take him out for you.”
Everything in me goes cold.
Warren’s voice drops to a whisper. “What?”
“Caleb fucked it up,” Jimmy says bitterly. “He fucking missed and shot the fucker in the knee instead. But I thought—you’d see it then. That you’d finally step up.” He laughs again, broken. “I thought you’d thank me.” He pulls in a deep breath. “You’d finally see me.”
My bond bucks violently, Warren’s control slipping just enough that it makes my vision blur. Beck’s phone buzzes again, and he lets out a muffled sniffle.
“Jimmy,” Warren says, voice strained but steady. “Put the gun down for me. Please.”
Jimmy shakes his head, tears flying. “You don’t get it. I did this because I love you. I did all of it for you.”
The gun wavers again.
I press my cheek to the cool wood of the kitchen island next to me, trying not to make a sound. But my whole body is screaming to run, to do something, tofixthis. Somewhere beside me, Beck’s breathing is shallow, controlled.
Warren takes one careful step backward.
Jimmy shrieks. “Don’t move!”
