“Jesus, Decker,” Allen says, eyebrows at his hairline, smile locked in place. “Didn’t think you’d have it in you. But I guess this is who you are, isn’t it? You run around with killers often enough, I suppose you become one.”
I can barely manage to get words out, my heart beating so fast I can’t catch my breath. “Grace walks away,” I say.
It almost sounds like I’m begging again.
I don’t look at her. I can’t. She keeps seeing me like this—blood covered, angry, losing control. She said she can do ugly, but I’m not sure how much ugly she can take. How much more of thisIcan take.
“I told you. You do as I say tonight, then you walk away from this. I lose the evidence I have on you. I’ll keep my word. And I’ll even let you walk out of here with the She-Donovan.” He cocks his head, reading me, sizing me up. “One more task for you.”
“And what’s that?”
“It’s simple. The final fight. Kill Donovan.”
I swallow. This is what I’ve been waiting for. The moment we go head-to-head. Fist-to-fist. Me and Axe in a ring, fighting it out. The fight I’m ready to die for. To ruin my life for. The understanding that, if I win, I’ll need to disappear because he’s made sure that if I come for him, I’ll lose.
Much as I hate Allen, he’s about to hand me the thing I’ve been dreaming about for ten fucking years.
But there’s a problem.
Three problems, actually.
“I can’t kill him,” I say as I survey Axe. “Look at him. He’s barely holding it together. It’s not a fair fight.”
Problem number one. The part of me that won’t die. The part that still for some fucking reason can’t shed its morality. If I killed Axe when he’s in this state, his death would fucking haunt me more than any other. This isn’t vengeance or justice. It’s not tipping the scales back into place. This shit between Axe and me is so much more than a life for a life. It’s bloody. Complicated. A raging decade-long battle. He doesn’t go out like this. Not by my hand.
“You’ll kill him, or I’ll kill the slut, and then I’ll kill you.”
Problem number two. Grace. In the time she’s been here, she’s seen the ugliest sides of me. But I won’t fucking kill herbrother in front of her. There’s no part of me that could stomach it and no part of Grace that could ever forgive me for it.
“This is your kill,” I tell him. “It’s what you’ve been waiting for. Why let me take that from you?” I’m stalling. Working out a way to get him closer to me, to get that fucking gun out of his hands.
“I’m not a killer,” he says. “I’m not likeyou.Sure, I’ll end a life when I’m in a bind, but why do that now when you can end it for me? Why waste the moment worrying about the blood on my hands, the clothes I’ll have to burn, when I can watch you do it. It’s like my own little movie. One I can play in my head over and over again for the rest of my life.”
Problem number three. Somehow in all of this, Donovan has become the lesser evil. Axe dies, the Sinners weaken. Then maybe the Raiders move in, and with them, comes their drugs and their guns and their own brand of violence. Then there’s Allen. Hiding behind his badge, using it to bend the world to his will. None of us are good, but I think Axe might be the better man in all of this.
I finally chance a look at Grace. Tears streaked down her face. Rag mostly out of her mouth. She shakes her head, telling me no. There’s a way out. There’s always a way out.
“How do you want me to do it?” I ask, swinging my head back to Allen.
A wide grin splits across his face. “Just make it hurt.”
With a deep breath, I step towards Axe. I raise my knife. Grace sobs. I ignore it. Allen gets closer, and then closer, waiting for me to make my move.
Axe sighs. “Don’t… don’t let her suffer for this, Deck. Get Kat out. I need you to protect her. All right? She’s not… she’s not part of this.” He shudders. “Get her out of that fucking cell. She can’t rot in there. Please. Just… please.”
Nodding, I grip the hilt. He’s begging. I can’t fault him for it. If it were me on my knees and him with the knife, I’d do the same. Tell him to keep Grace safe, that she can’t suffer for the sins we’ve committed. In my last breath, it would be Grace’s name on my lips, it would be her life I’m begging for instead of mine.
“Linc!” Grace yells. “Please don’t. Linc! Please.”
I close my eyes to drown her out. It’s like that night ten years ago. I made a choice. The night the lines between right and wrong blurred. Justice, vengeance, tipping the scales back into place. I did a bad thing to right a wrong, and now I have to do the same thing. I have to eliminate the threat. End the life of a man who doesn’t deserve the privilege of breathing the same air as the rest of us.
I have to make it right.
“Nothing quite like this kind of justice,” I say to Allen.
The anger festering under his skin is palpable, ready to overflow.
I feed into it, let it touch me, wrap around my hand, steady the shake of it. “You ready?”
