“Drunk driving and sex trafficking,” Liam says. Estelle gives him a look that I don’t fully understand.
Liam takes a careful step forward. “Put the gun down, Randal. It’s over. No one else needs to get hurt today.”
Papa’s breathing grows more erratic. His arm tightens around my neck, making me gag. Pierce puts a hand on Beckett’s arm to keep him from jumping us.
“Stay back! I’ll kill her. I swear I will.”
“No, you won’t,” Liam says with quiet certainty. “You’d have to kill all of her alphas to get out of this room alive.”
Papa’s body shifts behind me, muscles coiling. I feel the pressure of the gun barrel disappear from my temple, and for one wild, hopeful moment, I think it’s over.
Papa drops his arm and pushes me down. I twist, looking back up at him just in time to see Papa press the gun beneath his own chin.
The gunshot is so loud, it feels like it breaks bones in my face. My ears ring instantly. Something warm splashes across me and the front of my shirt. My brain refuses to understand what I’m looking at. Papa’s body jerks once in front of me, then collapses hard to the floor, like the bones inside him stopped working.
There’s blood on my hands. Blood on my shirt. When I look closer, there are thicker pieces mixed in with it, gray and pink and wrong.
The scream rips out of me louder than the gunshot.
Strong arms grab me and pull me back against a solid chest and a cloud of cinnamon that smells burnt. Gravity goes all wonky. My stomach drops to my toes as I’m moved through the air. Beckett places me down, but fabric snags, pulls and rips. The edge of my tapestry flutters down from the ceiling, settling over my head.
I tear at the fabric and scramble away on hands and knees, clawing at the floor.
“That’s her nest. Not a good idea,” someone says.
My palms slip on the floor trying to get away, away from it all.
“Ash.” The voice is soft.
I don’t stop crawling. Can’t stop screaming.
My hand slides through something wet and I skid forward, catching myself before I fall flat on my face. When I look up, Papa is right there, right in front of me.
His body is twisted on the floor, one arm stretched toward me like he was reaching for something. The front of his shirt is soaked dark and his eyes are still open. His head sits on top of a mess of blackened red meat, wet and slimy looking.
I feel myself get pulled backward and upright. Arms wrap around me from behind.
“Ash, I got you,” is whispered in my ear. A hand covers my eyes, making the whole world disappear into black until there is nothing but strong arms and the scent of fresh clean laundry.
Chapter fifty-two
LIAM
I’vealwaysheardthattime slows when something tragic happens. That doesn’t prepare you for when time kicks back in.
The ringing in my ears from the gunshot recedes and is overwritten by Ash’s screams.
Randal’s corpse is splayed on the floor, the gun a few inches from his limp fingers. Ash quiets in Pierce’s arms. He’s rocking her. He’s rocking himself, cross-legged on the floor with her in his lap, covering her eyes. Beckett has a hand on her back.
That woman, the beta, is texting furiously on her phone. There’s a blood smear on her upper lip. Enzo is her uncle. He has a ton of nieces, that much I know.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Beckett murmurs, reaching for Ash with trembling hands. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. You need…”
“No. Stop.” Estelle’s voice cuts through the fog in my brain, bringing me back to myself. “Chances are fifty-fifty a neighbor is going to call the police. And when they arrive, none of you can be here.”
Beckett’s head snaps up. “I’m not leaving her.”
“You have to.”
