“You, barbaric fuck,” I snarled.
Easton looked at me, eyes wide then he snorted out a laugh. “Jesus, Zayne, did you fall for that pussy.”
I replied with another bullet. His knee jumped from the impact and he wailed like fucking a bitch in heat. I smiled. “How did you find me?”
He ignored me and I cocked the gun. “A mutual friend.”
There was only one mutual friend who’d give him my details, not out of spite but merely because he didn’t know what a fucked-up piece of shit Easton had become. We’d been friends, the three of us—in another lifetime.
That answered the burning question of how Easton had found me, and knew in which building to dump Ashrika’s body. Now thewhy? I shifted to ease the dull throb that now settled over my body. I could feel it shutting down. The bullet had either hit a nerve or some major fucking organ. If my time was up, so be it. I had no qualms about dying.
“Why me?” I asked.
Easton gritted his teeth, his eyes were wild. “Are you seriously fucking asking me that? You have no one to blame but yourself.”
I sighed, the blood loss making me weaker. “Was it the money? The power? Why would you want to go down this road?” I waved the gun around the air. “This place has been empty for so long, you neglected it. You chose to walk out.”
“Because of you. We had a bro code. You should have never fucked my wife and knocked her up with what was supposed to be my son.” he roared.
My head jerked up, I straightened in the chair. “Is that what they told you?” Then I shook my head. “You dumb fuck. You could’ve just asked me—”
“Fuck you, Zayne. She was a virgin!” He yelled, his body shaking. “I was trying to respect her wishes, respect her father. And she, apparently, gave herself to you.”
Before I could gauge his intention, he lunged to his side behind a table. I dropped to the floor just as he opened fire, hitting the chair. Wincing, I rolled to get out of his line of fire. I hissed when a bullet scraped my leg. I got off a couple of rounds. Then silence. I stayed down, listening for movement. Nothing.
Then, “Zayne? You okay?”
Frowning, I lifted my head and cursed. “Trent? What the fuck are you doing here?” I tried to sit up but the pain slowed my movements. Panting, I laid on the floor as Trent leaned over me. I looked at the gun in his hand. “You killed him?” incredulity lined my brow.
Slowly, he nodded. His expression a clear indication he was in shock. I doubted he’d killed a man before.
Trent
CHEST BURNING, LUNGSheaving, heart in a palpitating mess and hands shaking, I surveyed the scene around me. When Tia threw the gun at me and rattled off the address, I hadn’t expected to walk into World War fucking Three. I stared down at the man I’d just shot and paled. What the fuck was Easton doing here and why the fuck was he shooting at Zayne?
I glanced over at Zayne’s still body and called out. He lifted his head, saw me and immediate shock breached his usually stiff countenance.
