My hand reached up to wrap around her forearm as I regained my senses.
“I’m sorry, G. I am so fucking sorry,” I said, my voice hoarse from the FBI agent’s hands.
“Shh, are you alright?” she asked, looking down at me, her ocean eyes scanning my face.
“I’m fine,” I said before sitting up. My eyes found James, who was being held back by Dean, his teeth bared.
“I’ll kill you,” the agent hissed. I nodded, swallowing my fate.
“Garner, get a hold of yourself,” Dean snapped just before James broke his hold. Gwen stood in front of me, ready to fight, but instead of charging after me, James turned on Dean, giving him a nasty right hook. As the baseball player doubled over, James said something that I couldn't hear.
“James, stop this,” Gwen pleaded, taking a step to him. Suddenly, I was on my feet, yanking her back as he approached her, pulling his gun out of the holster. He stopped a foot in frontof my friend, looking down at her. His eyes didn’t hold hatred behind them when he searched her eyes; no, they held fear.
They held each other’s eyes, minutes ticking by as the chaos ensued all around us.
“James,” she whispered as she placed her palm on his blood-stained chest, directly over his heart. “Think about this. Please. Don’t do something you'll regret.”
He snatched her hand, gripping it so tightly, his knuckles turned white. I growled at him. “Let her go.”
“Hush, Jer,” she snapped, still holding his gaze.
“She's the only thing that matters to me now," James said to her.
“Yes.”
“Nothing will stand in my way.”
“I’ll stand behind you.”
He shoved her away then, shaking his head as he looked down the river. “This isn’t your fight, Gwen. Not anymore.”
“Bullshit,” she spat.
“Garner,” Dean called from behind him. “Your team is here.”
We all turned to look up the stairs, the red and blue lights flashing in the night sky as sirens echoed through the air. Wordlessly, the four of us climbed up the concrete stairs.
Once we were at the top my eyes grazed over the park, bodies of Romano’s goons littering the grass and sidewalks, their blood staining this city.
My city.
This wasn’t just a crime scene; it was a god-damn warzone.
****
“Answer me, dammit!”
My eyes flicked to Dean. “We're doing what needs to be done to get our girls home. You of all people should understand that.”
He sighed through his nose as he dropped his head. “I was the only one who was supposed to cross that line. Me and me alone.”
“Connors, I crossed that line years ago,” I said calmly. The clicking of a gun drew my attention away from him, and I looked to James. He set his now-clean gun back on the countertop and gestured to his clothes. “I’ll be right back.”
“You aren’t going to clean this up?” He halted at my words and looked back to Tipponi.
“No, he can rot here.”
“Jesus, Garner,” Dean breathed, his eyes wide with shock. James looked at him, his face void of emotion, stone faced for ten seconds before he blinked slowly and turned to go to his bedroom.
