No!
Owens was on his back a few feet from Shadow. His eyes were closed, and the front of his shirt was soaked with the man’s blood.
It was obvious he’d been shot, but the slight rising and falling of his chest was a good sign. He was alive, at least.
For now.
Slade’s gaze went back to Shadow, who had yet to see him. She was too busy holding a knife toward the man behind her and her father’s abductions.
Michael Stanton stood facing her from a few feet away. His face was bloody, and it was obvious his nose had been broken.
“On your knees, Stanton,” Slade ordered, despite the urge to pull his own trigger.
The world would be a much better place without the son of a bitch in it.
At the sound of his voice, Shadow blinked and turned his way. The emotion he saw there nearly dropped him to his knees.
“Slade?”
“Yeah, princess. It’s me.” He gave her a curt nod to let her know she was going to be okay.
Those were the same words he’d given to her that night in the motel, and then again at the cabin when she’d woken from a very bad dream.
The star of that nightmare had been the man slowly bringing himself to his knees. But it was over. Stanton was finished, and he would never hurt anyone else ever?—
“Wait.” Shadow came to his side. She reached up and took the gun from his hand.
With Bones and Falcon giving medical aid to Owens, Apollo stood close by while Slade willingly surrendered his weapon.
He watched carefully as she lifted the pistol, pointing its barrel in the dead center of Stanton’s head.
“He killed my mother while she slept.” Her voice sounded small, almost childlike. To Stanton, she said, “You were her partner. You were supposed to be herfriend.”
“She was going to t-turn me in.” Stanton began stuttering like the chickenshit that he was. “Y-Your mother grew soft.Youm-made her soft.”
“No!” Shadow took a broad step toward him. “You donotget to put my mother’s death…my mother’s murder…on me.Youdid this. All of it. This is all onyou!”
“I only did what I had to. I was just trying to survive!”
“Bullshit.” Shadow’s voice returned to a slow, lethal tone. “The choices you made weren’t out of necessity. They came from greed and your own cowardice. And look at where it got you.” She laughed humorlessly as she glanced around the room.
“You think I’m the only person in the CIA to ever use their contacts and skills to their own advantage? I’m not!” Spittle flew from Stanton’s mouth.
“I don’t care about any other dirty agents, asshole.” Shadow shook her head slowly. “Frankly, I don’t even care about you. You’re a traitor to your country. For that alone, you deserve to die. But for the cold-blooded murder of my mother…a woman who trusted you to have her back…a woman who brought you into her home…for that, you deserve to suffer.”
“Suffer?” The idiot huffed out another sardonic breath. “Please. You’re not going to shoot me. You’re soft, like your mother. You don’t have the ba?—”
Shadow pulled the trigger, the deafening sound making him and every man on his team jump from the unexpected blast. Stanton howled in pain, his left hand grabbing hold of his right.
His dominant hand. His shooting hand. And from the looks of it, a hand the asshole would never use again.
Slade looked to Shadow who turned and handed him back his gun. If he wasn’t already in love with the incredible woman, that would have done it right there.
“Feel better?” He couldn’t help but flash her a grin.
He expected a nod, or a teeny tiny smile. But the strongest woman he’d ever met gave a slow shake of her head as a river of tears poured from her eyes.
“Ah, baby.” Slade pulled her into his arms but let go when she gasped in pain. “What is it?” he looked down at her, trying to figure out where else she’d been hurt.
