“Zayne!” Declan yelled.
I opened my eyes, focusing on him. Then realization dawned. We were in a car, moving away. I glanced back at the taxing plane. I looked down at my hands. Blood. My blood. No. Ria’s blood. I looked back through the rear windshield. The airport was in the distance. “What happened?”
“Shit, man, I’m sorry.” He was trying to comfort me.
“What the fuck happened, Dec,” steel line my tone.
He shoved two hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept repeating.
I grabbed the front of his shirt twisting, then I pulled back. He was wearing sniper greens. “What the fuck happened, Declan. You have one fucking second.”
“It’s not his fault, Gabe.” Only then did I notice that Sam was driving. His worried gaze on me.
“Pull the fuck over, Sam,” I growled and he did.
As soon as the vehicle screeched to a halt, I jumped out followed by Sam and Declan. I moved to tackle Declan but Sam stepped in front of me. “Let me explain,” he said. My eyes dark with murderous intent stared at him. “We’d been tracking Gianna Salvatore for a year, but we had no confirmed facial recognition for her. Declan intercepted a code to take out Gianna and her meet-up today. When it came in, he signed in to take the hit. Up until she stepped out of that plane, we didn’t know what Gianna looked like, nobody did. On the field, the code changed.”
He went quiet and I knew what it had changed to.
Me!
Behind him, Declan’s eyes were raw with unshed tears.
I balled my fists, veins popping in my forearms from the exertion. “You signed in to take the hit on me?”
“I swear, Gabe, I had no fucking idea she was Ria, and then when I saw you crossing the tarmac and the code changed, I figured I’d miss. I didn’t know she’d swing you around. Fuck, man, I’m telling you, I had a clear sight to miss. I had to make it look legit, Gabe, please you have to believe me. You know how this works.”
I turned my back on him. Yes, I knew. “Always a fucking snag with TRA.” If Declan withdrew on the hit, a second sniper, location undisclosed, would’ve taken it in his place. He had to take the shot to make it look real.”
“Who called the hit on me?”
“We think it’s FBI but Declan needs to do a run—”
“Where’s Ria?” I snapped.
“The man she flew in with, got her into the jet and took off,” Sam replied.
“Confirmed kill?” I asked, my body rigid with tension, not wanting to hear the answer but I had to. When they didn’t respond, I swung around. “I need a fucking answer,” I gritted out.
“I’m sorry, Gabe,” Declan whispered, his words telling me what I needed to know.
“Confirmed,” Sam replied.
“No!” I pivoted sharply, my arm swinging wide and crushing through the rear passenger window of the SUV. I didn’t care that my knuckles stung and bled or that my arm shuddered from the impact, pulling a muscle. I didn’t care when I kicked out a leg and my Italian leathers connected with the front passenger door of the SUV.
“Gabriel,” Sam began.
“It’s Zayne Morrone from now on. Don’t fucking call me.” I walked away.
“Gabe, please,” Declan yelled. “Please. I’m sorry.”
I didn’t look back but my heart tore for both Declan and Ria. I needed time. To rant, to mourn, to heal. Yet, I knew that to live again would take ages. To love again, would take forever. Because I didn’t deserve love because not only did I hurt people, I hurt the ones I loved even more.
