I could bite his ear off…but would I have enough time? Sullie was packing. The man always had a gun within reach, ever since I was child. He would be able to shoot Romano…He was an excellent shot. Hell, he could shoot the man right now if he wanted to…
Why hadn’t he?
Sullie could end this shit once and for all.
“I don’t have all day,” Romano growled from beside me, his hand tightening about my arm. He kept his injured side away from my uncle, a last-ditch resort to keep his image intact. To still appear ruthless. Something to be feared.
My nephew was scarier in his Batman PJs than this asshole next to me. A small smile formed on my lips. Three months ago, the mere thought of Ray Romano scared the crap out of me. He was a huge part of why I became a robot. I shut myself off from the world, from myself. Then, I saw Col that day, and everything changed. I changed.
Collin opened me back up and showed me how powerful I truly was. He showed me his scars and I showed him mine, and together, we became stronger than ever.
In a world that strives to be black and white, we found each other in the mass of gray.
Three months ago, the name Romano sent shivers down my spine. Now? Now, it just made my eyes roll.
“Tell me why you want her,” Sullie boomed, his voice bouncing off the stadium walls.
“That little bitch is going to pay for what she did to my empire—to my son,” Romano seethed beside me, and I suddenly smelled the faint scent of whiskey.
Sullie smiled, chuckling as he stepped down from the pitcher’s mound. “You want to know what kills a man in power?”
Romano stiffened.
“His unquenchable thirst,” my uncle said, his eyes darting behind me.
He wasn’t alone.
A grunt of pain filled my ears, and Ice Pack Dick was face down on the ground. Big surprise there.
The devil’s attention focused on his man, and I took the opportunity to rip free from him, staggering back towards Sullie. My breath hitched as I saw Dean Connors leaning against the brick wall, the barbed wire bat resting on his shoulder.
“Connors,” Romano choked out as he slowly backtracked in the direction of third base.
The baseball player was dressed in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, a gun strapped to his thigh, his hair was up in a bun. His hazel eyes flicked to mine for a second before scanning my body for injuries. The second man advanced Dean, and the man smirked.
“Finally, I was getting bored,” Dean murmured, stepping forward. In a flash, he swung the bat, hitting the man in the shoulder before gunshots sounded off.
I flinched, ducking my head slightly. Relief washed over me as I saw Romano’s last man falling to the ground, a bullet in his forehead. My head snapped to the left to see James Garner walking to me, his gun now on Romano.
His eyes were wide with fear as he looked down at his men. His army was gone, and he was nothing but a man now, his immortality stripped from him right before our eyes. The fear in his eyes melted as he looked at Dean, who was spinning the bat in his hands.
“How ya doing, boss?” he asked with a snarky smile.
Dean Connors, the smartass, ladies and gentlemen.
“You will pay for this! All of you! Where is she?” Romano screamed, snapping his head to my uncle, who stood halfway between Homeplate and the pitcher’s mound.
“You rang, asshole?”
Gwen’s voice caused a broken sob to rise from my throat, one I couldn’t hold back. So long. It had been so long since I laid eyes on my beautiful friend.
She emerged from the visitors’ dugout, and I could see the fire in her eyes from where I stood. My best friend looked like a nightmare in all black: boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt. I noticed she was the only one wearing a bulletproof vest.
I looked back to the FBI agent, who looked just about unhinged as our mutual enemy. His hair was a mess, which was different. The agent I knew was always put together and clean cut. This man was savage. He was wearing cargo pants, was covered in weapons, and donned dark gray Henley with a gun holster around his shoulders.
“You little slut—ah!”
I looked back towards third base to find Romano on the ground, Gwen standing above him. He was clutching a knife protruding from his shoulder. “While I appreciate the greeting, perhaps we could talk somewhere more private?” she asked, smiling down at the man she had been wanting to kill for years.
