Then it hits with a dull crack.
I swear the buzzing stops completely for one dreadful moment, then the hive explodes. Bees pour out in a living cloud, a furious, screaming swarm. They swirl in the air, rising higher and higher, scattering.
Half the swarm shifts, coming right for us.
Jimmy’s eyes go wide, and he drops the gun, trying to scramble off me. Determined not to let him get away, I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.
He starts screaming.
The sound is high and broken and endless as bees land everywhere, stinging, crawling, swarming. Pinpricks of pain flash along my arms, legs, and the backs of my hands, sharp and hot, but I don’t let go.
Jimmy thrashes and curses. “Let go!” he growls, then screams again as he tries to stand, but I hook my legs around his waist, keeping him in place. He grunts and spits, hands flying through the air as he tries to fight off the swarm. But it’s no use, they’re everywhere.
On my legs, covering my arms, even in my hair.
All I can do is close my eyes, lock my arms, and hang on for dear life.
Soon, Jimmy coughs hard, choking on his screams, as they quickly turn ragged.
I cling to the asshole, holding him tighter as his chest starts to heave, then wheeze.
It feels like it takes forever, seconds stretching thin and strange. But eventually, his ragged breaths stop, and Jimmy’s body finally goes slack.
I stay completely still, waiting, feeling the bees still dance across my skin, their tiny feet tickling, brushing, moving over me. They aren’t stinging anymore. Haven’t been for a while.
I finally breathe. Carefully. Slowly.
The world feels very still.
It’s over.
My grip loosens, and I slowly release the alpha. Lifting up, I blink several times before I allow myself to look down.
Jimmy lies twisted beneath me, unmoving. His face is swollen almost beyond recognition—skin mottled and tight, lips blown up with foam clinging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes are half-open, unfocused, staring at nothing at all.
I feel nothing sharp at the sight. No spike of horror. No guilt. In fact, I’m happy he’s dead.
Jimmy hurt Beck. He attacked Warren. He’s the reason Cass was shot. He did unimaginable things to the people I love, and anyone who hurts my men deserves to fucking die.
“Tansy!” Grason’s voice cuts through the quiet, sharp with fear.
I jerk and turn to the broken doorway of the greenhouse. “Here.” The sound that comes out of me is shockingly weak. Thin. Like my body is only just remembering how to make noise.
Gray’s footsteps pound closer, then he steps into view. He looks panicked, scanning the yard with frightened eyes. “Tansy! Tan—I found her!” His eyes go wide when he sees me inside the greenhouse, then he sprints right for me.
The air shifts as Grason runs into the greenhouse, his crisp pine scent flooding the cramped space. I stay where I am, still on top of Jimmy.
“Tansy,” Gray says my name softer now, breathless. He takes in the scene in one sharp glance. Me, then Jimmy unmoving beneath me, and something in his expression shifts. Relief. Awe. Horror. All of it at once.
His hand comes down, slipping over the back of my head. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs. “You can let go.”
I nod faintly as I realize I’m still clutching Jimmy's shirt. I force them to loosen, releasing the asshole. In that instant, my abs unclench, and my legs relax too. I lean back to slide off him, placing my hands on the dirt as I move away under my own power.
My lungs seize for half a second, then finally drag in a deep, shuddering breath that burns all the way down. I cough once, hard, vision blurring as sensation rushes back too fast.
Grason stays right by my side, his hand firm on my back, murmuring my name like a lifeline.
I glance back once more, making sure that Jimmy hasn’t moved.
