“What do you propose? Mr. King is waving that gun around and forcing me to keep his pathetic sister alive.”
James doesn’t move.
Jonathan’s face twists, his mask finally cracking as rage takes hold. “Take his gun,” Jonathan snaps. “I want to be off this ship in five minutes. I don’t have time to pay off the authorities right now.”
James wets his lips and turns his tortured gaze on me. “Shoot him.”
My shoulders stiffen, silence blanketing us as his words ring across the water. “I won’t risk her.”
“You ungrateful little shit,” Jonathan roars.
“You have my sister; trust me to get yours. Shoot him.”
My eyes search his, seeing so much of Eleanor in him. I lift the gun just as Jonathan darts to the side, which I anticipated. My bullet catches his shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground with a pain-filled groan. James wastes no time grabbing Steph’s legs and taking her weight, the two of us staring at each other as thunder continues to rumble along the horizon.
Two brothers, two sisters. How fucking poetic.
Jonathan scrambles to his feet and skulks off around the corner, blood dripping behind him. I no longer have a line of sight on him. “Where did you go, coward?” I shout, painfully aware of how unprotected the four of us are here on his perverse stage.
His laughter rings out above us. I look up to see his shadow looming near the controls, but he’s not stupid enough to show his face. “A little less slack on these ropes should do the trick.”
James’s panicked gaze collides with mine. If he pulls them so they are out of reach, they will die. I shift Eleanor in my arms, tossing my gun down and reaching for my knife when a scream of unadulterated rage cuts through the air. The sound, full of loss, pain, terror, and grief, stops my heart, and stillness surrounds the ship.
“Katherine, what the fuck?—”
“You’ve taken too much from us. I won’t let you have any more.”
Two bodies sail over the railing, my breath catching as Jonathan and a thin woman in a gray dress arc through the air. They hit the deck, the crunch of bones and a morbid tangle of bodies a backdrop to this horror show I never expected.
Footsteps thunder down the ship, and Fox skids to a stop at the standoff before him.
“Who do I kill?” he snaps, looking at James.
“Not him. Not yet.” I haven’t decided his fate, and I don’t think it should be up to me. “But check the asshole under that woman is dead.”
Fox nods at two men I recognize, and they run up the steps. He approaches the bodies and bends to gently pull the woman off before pushing his fingers against Jonathan’s neck.
“He’s alive.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Eleanor
Revenge is empty.
My entire life has been spent in pursuit of Jonathan’s demise, and I’ve come to terms with the likelihood that I’m going to die. It was an acceptable consequence and cost of burning down his empire. But Hunter blasted into my life and painted it in bright colors. He showed me a future filled with possibility. He shifted my focus from vengeance to love, from pain to pleasure, and gifted me with something precious. Hope.
The woman crumpled on the ground coughs and blood trails from her dry lips, the fog and darkness surrounding my brain keeping the panic, the heartbreak, and the rage at bay as I watch helplessly from the edge of death.
One hundred and fifty-seven seconds. One hundred?—
The ropes slacken before being torn from my neck, and Hunter pulls me into his arms, his body trembling as his eyes frantically search mine. His fingers trace the welt across my throat, his eyes filling with tears. He fiddles with the cuffs around my wrists, and they fall to the floor with a clang,releasing me. My limbs feel heavy, but I force my hand against his warm cheek, wiping the blood away from a shallow cut.What happened there?Forcing my eyes open after a slow blink, warmth surrounds me as Hunter yanks his shirt over my head, cupping my face in his hands.
“Go,” I croak, hearing the eerie silence behind me as James tends to Steph. “I told you, I’m okay.”
He drops his forehead to mine, catching sight of the clamp between my legs and gently removing it before tossing it away with a growl. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I love you, Eleanor Austin, and I’ll tell you every damn day until the end of time.”
My mind starts to clear the longer I am able to breathe, and I want to respond, but I can’t. Not until this is over. Not until I rid the Earth of this hell.
