“So, you killed Fox?” I need him to confirm it. I need to hear him say the words.
He nods. “Yeah. I’ve had it planned for weeks. You were taking too long.”
My skin pricks at the criticism. I’ve been working on ending this bill for months. What has this prick done upuntil tonight? Played keyboard warrior to a bunch of online simping trolls? Whoop-de-fucking-do.
“I wasn’t planning on killing Grover,” I tell him.
“Grover?” Zach’s eyes widen. “Do you know the President?”
I nod. “Our paths crossed.”
Zach’s eyes roam over me, assessing me in silence.
“And Daphne?” I don’t want to even say the words out loud, but I’ve heard nothing from Daphne all night. “Did you kill her, too?”
He shakes his head with a shit-eating grin. “No. I scared the shit out of her a few weeks ago. Fake kidnapping attempt. And I left her Secret Service agent’s body by her trash cans. Bet that scared the shit out of her when she went to walk her dog in the morning.”
The mention of Hawkeye has my blood simmering under my skin.
“I thought that would send a message to Fox,” he says casually.
Not that I doubted it, but it’s nice to have confirmation that Zach is the bastard who tried to grab her. “What kind of message?”
He stares at me, dumbfounded. “The same one you were trying to send. Kill the bill, or we kill them.”
“I killed the person who wrote the bill,” I remind him. “I killed the senator trying to whip the votes to get it passed. I killed Committee members. Why the President?”
Zach frowns. “Someone had to make sure the job was done and go straight to the source. You were picking off all the right people, but you didn’t have the balls to kill the President—the one person who could sign the whole thing into law.”
“I didn’t have the balls?” I cock the gun, the clicking sound filling the air.
Zach raises his hands in defense. “Dude, no offense. I thought it would be better to get it done sooner, you know?”
“I’m not offended. I’m angry.”
Zach’s eyebrow arches. “Why? Isn’t this what you wanted? I helped you end this.”
“I don’t care that you killed the President. I don’t care if you say I don’t have the balls to finish a job. What I do care about is that you sent a bullet through my girlfriend’s bedroom window.”
Zach pauses, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle but doesn’t have the I.Q. to figure it out. “Huh?”
“Daphne Fox,” I say through gritted teeth. “I could forgive you for killing my future father-in-law. But what I can’t forgive you for is firing a bullet that close to my girlfriend. Twice.” I swallow a burning lump in my throat. “She was five feet from her dad tonight. If you’d missed. If you’d fucked up. If you’d killed her…”
Zach’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Daphne’s your girlfriend? So, that makes you…” Zach’s eyes go wide with recognition. “You’re Tristan Sinclair?”
I nod. “Congratulations. You’ve unmasked me, Zach.” I reach up and slide the mask off. I want to look him dead in the eye. He needs to know who killed him, and why. “You could have killed my girlfriend. You put her in danger.”
He shakes his head, his eyes fixated on mine. I don’t know what my expression is, but Zach’s gone from excited to shocked to petrified. His face blanches to a ghastly shade as his eyes dart around the room for protection. “Look, man. I didn’t?—“
“I’ll make this quick.”
“No, I?—”
Bang!
Zach’s body hovers for a moment, droplets of blood trickling above his eyebrow, before he crumples to the floor in a heap.
I scan the room. His laptop’s playing a news clip of the assassination. Again, I see Grover Fox plummeting to the floor. Below the monitor are Zach’s dog tags, an ashtray, a lighter, and a half-empty pack of Marlboros.
