The sound rang in my ears, loud and high, while my brain refused to process what I’d just seen.
Ron had shot himself.
Right in front of us.
Right in front of me.
Anchor cursed viciously.“Son of a bitch.”
Prime moved to Ron, but the second he knelt, I knew there was no saving him.
Push turned toward me immediately, blocking most of my view with his body.“Baby.”
I stared past him anyway.
My hands were shaking.
My whole body was shaking.
“He-” My voice didn’t work.“He just-”
“I know.”Push’s hands came to my face, forcing my eyes to his.“Look at me.”
I tried.God, I tried.“He knew where Erin was,” I whispered.
Push’s jaw tightened.
“We got zero fucking information from him,” he said.
Anchor swore again.
Cross kicked the side of the desk hard enough to make papers scatter.
The printer hummed.
I blinked.The printer.It finished with a final mechanical whirr, and a piece of paper slid into the tray.
My gaze locked onto it.
Nobody else moved toward it.Everyone was focused on Ron.On the fact our only lead had just blown a hole through his own head.
But I stepped around Push.“McKayla,” he warned.
I ignored him.
Not because I wanted to see Ron, but because that printer had been going when we walked in.
Because Ron had moved in front of it so that meant whatever he’d been waiting for mattered.
I crossed the room on shaky legs and reached for the paper.
My fingers trembled as I pulled it from the tray and turned it over.
The world stopped.“Oh my God,” I gasped.
Push was beside me instantly.“What?”
I couldn’t speak.
