“Shit!” Bone cracked. Blood oozed from his broken nose.
Harold gripped Jarrett’s shoulder. “You’re better than this, son.”
“I’m not. I’ve done terrible things.”
“I’m sure you have. The cops will take these assholes away, and we’ll talk. You can tell me whatever you want.”
He swallowed hard and shoved the bloodied gun back into the holster beneath his sweater. Perhaps Marissa was right. His father loved him.
“You’re mine!” Bill jerked his hands free of the cuffs and grabbed a knife from the table. He lunged at Marissa as the other men ran from the room.
She screamed as Jarrett grabbed his gun and fired.
Bill whipped sideways from the impact and grasped his bleeding stomach. The floor rushed up to meet him. He collapsed on his back.
The wail of sirens in the distance pierced his eardrums. “About damn time.” Cold air blew from the open doorway, cooling the sweat on his nape. He breathed easier as Marissa rushed into his arms. “I’m sorry, baby.” Her warmth and fear swamped him. He clutched her close and kissed the top of her head. He’d give anything to carry her away and kiss her senseless, but he set her aside. Damn his duty. He squatted near a growing pool of dark-red liquid and placed his hand on Bill’s clammy forehead. “You don’t have long. Tell me who sent you.”
Bill coughed blood and mucus. His rough breaths shook his whole body.
“Your friends ran off. Don’t keep quiet for them.”
He tried to scoot back. His bloodshot eyes pinged back and forth in the sockets.
“Who’s the snitch?” Jarrett knocked away Bill’s hands and pressed the barrel of his gun against the hole. Ah, fuck. Bill’s earsplitting screams tore through the room. “Talk, and I won’t torture you.”
Bill gasped. “Ack-Acker—his name is—” He spat out more blood. “—Ackermann. Kill me. If you don’t, he will. He n-never promised protection. J-just death if we failed.”
The air in Jarrett’s lungs stilled. “Charles Ackermann hired you?”
His eyes glazed over as he strangled on his blood.
Jarrett pressed his fingers to Bill’s neck. No pulse. Air whizzed out through his clenched teeth. Every nerve in his body throbbed like fire torched the ends. He mustered his slipping control and stood to face his dad. Marissa’s muffled cries raked at his heart as the older man held her. Should he try to comfort her? Did she even want him anymore?
As Marissa dashed her eyes, Harold stepped back and braced his hands on his hips.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to put any of you in danger.” He cleaned his weapon on his ruined sweater and holstered it. “I should’ve stayed away.”
“It’s not over. Two of them escaped, and there’s still the man who hired them. Who the hell is Ackermann?”
Jarrett scrubbed his hand down his face. “My supervisor. He assigned me to infiltrate the Consuelo crime family and arranged a safe house when the price on my head went viral.” He slid his billfold from his back pocket and handed it over. Good thing he’d brought it with him. Perhaps on some level, he suspected shit would go down.
Harold flipped it open and sighed heavily. “Jesus. It’s true.”
“Ackermann convinced the head of the DEA in San Francisco to drop a few felony charges against me in exchange for undercover work. I honored my part of the deal and stayed on with the agency. For the past seven years, I’ve trusted him with my life.” The man was like a father to him, and though he bit back those words, they hung in the air like a dead weight. After Jarrett pocketed the billfold, he grabbed his cell. “I need to call Whittaker. He’s my boss’s boss.”
“Wait. How did Bill or whoever he is escape the cuffs?” Marissa asked.
“Good question.” He searched the floor and sofa. There. A pair of zip cuffs lay on the cushion with a bobby pin stuck inside the locking mechanism. Figures. He’d missed the pin. So much for dressing down the bad guys. Who would lecture him? His dad?
Fuck. He exhaled through his nose and backed away from the crime scene evidence. The blood soaking into the carpet would leave a stain as dark as the shame on his soul. “No matter what I do, I always screw up. I’ll leave after the cops take my statement. I won’t bother any of you again.”
Marissa drew back and lifted her hand, showing her promise ring. “What about us? Does this ring mean nothing to you?”
“It means everything, but aren’t you gonna throw it back at me?” He clutched the phone until it nearly snapped and shoved it into his pocket.
“Are you crazy? You saved our lives.” She rubbed her puffy cheeks and glowered at the man who’d threatened to kill her. “Linda and Jason are upstairs. I hope they didn’t hear the gunshots.”
Jarrett shook his head as sirens blared right outside. About time the cops showed up. “I’m sorry for—”
