“That’s one thing we fucking agree on,” Carter snaps.
“You swallowed her whole. She chose a monster instead of her father.” Vaughn lowers his voice, his mouth by my ear. “You’re all I have left, sweetheart. You’re all I care about.”
“I hate you. I hate what you’ve done. What you’ve become. You think you can hold me against my will? How long before I run again?! I’m not your wife! I don’t love you. I—”
“Don’t!” Vaughn snaps. “Don’t tell me you lovehim.”
“But I do!” I yell, tears spilling over again.
The words hit Vaughn like a physical blow. His arm drops, the gun shaking so violently I think it’ll go off. “No,” he whispers. “You don’t, sweetheart, he brainwashed you, he—”
“He didn’t do anything.Youdid. You hurt me. You scared me. You’re not well. Please, let me go. We’ll get you some help. I promise. You’ll get better.”
“No, no, no,” he mutters.
“Drop the gun, Vaughn,” Carter orders. “Drop it and maybe we can fix whatever’s wrong with your head.”
“You... you took everything from me.” His despair twists into something darker, something final. “Everything.” He laughs—a broken, guttural sound—and lifts the gun from my chin.
I don’t realize where he’s aiming until the deafening crack of the gunshot pierces my ears and blood spatters my head, neck, the side of my face...
Vaughn slumps forward, lifeless, limp, as the gun clatters to the floor.
Ryder’s beside me in an instant, pulling me into his arms and shielding me from the sight. I’m shaking again, struggling to fill my lungs with air.
“He just... he... he’s—”
“Dead. He’s dead, baby, but you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
My legs give out. If not for Ryder holding me upright, I’d pool at his feet. I bury my face in his chest, sobbing as his arms wrap around me like a shield. The chaos around us fades, the world narrowing to his steady heartbeat beneath my forehead.
“You’re safe,” he whispers, lips brushing my hair. “Fuck, I was so fucking scared. I love you, baby. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”
39
Ryder
The copper tang of blood permeates the air, mixing with the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.
I hold Bianca against me, my arms around her trembling frame as her sobs shake us both. Her small hands clutch my shirt, her tears drenching the fabric.
“It’s over,” I whisper. “He’s gone, baby. You’re safe.”
I kiss her hair, closing my eyes to block out the image of Vaughn’s lifeless body slumped in his wheelchair. I’ve seen more death than I care to admit, but never a suicide. It feels heavier than murder. More personal.
Carter sends a “Fuck” into the ether, the curse shattering the silence. “Hailey will be catatonic when she finds out.”
I glance up at my boss. He stands by Vaughn’s body, fingers curled into fists. Anger and something akin to regret glitters in his eyes, his usual composure fractured.
Broadway steps closer, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll understand. You kept your word, Carter. You didn’t pullthe trigger. You didn’t kill him, even though you had more than enough reasons.”
Carter rubs a hand over his face. “He’s dead. Herfatheris dead. The fact I didn’t kill him won’t make it hurt any less.”
“No, I suppose not, but you’ll get her through it.” He squeezes his shoulder again. “I’ll organize a cleanup crew. The sooner we move the body the better.”
My focus drops back to Bianca. She’s not crying anymore, but her hold on me borders on desperate. She’s so small in my arms, so fragile.
“Ryder,” Carter calls, waiting until I lift my head before he continues. “You shouldn’t stay here tonight.”
