At the window, I stood him on his feet and climbed the stack of crates to make sure the only guards out there were the dead ones I’d left in my wake.
Two bodies still lay there with no signs of anyone else.
I turned back to grab Rett, only to be met by Tommy with a gun in each hand.
“I’m afraid I worked too hard to get you here to just let you leave,” he said.
I fired off a shot, knocking one of the guns out of his hand.
He yelled and jumped back, eyes moving to me incredulously. I leveled the gun again, but he pointed his at Rett.
“Shoot again, and he’s dead,” he threatened. Gesturing to my pistol, he said, “Drop it.”
I instantly let it fall away from my feet.
If a man needed to depend on a gun to stay alive, then he might as well just die.
I hopped off the crates, and Tommy jolted back. “Watch yourself.”
“Rett, come over here, baby.”
“Don’t move!” Tommy screeched.
Rett shuffled, unsure what to do.
“Come on, trust me,” I said, slowly holding out my hand.
Rett lunged in my direction, and I leaped in front of him, but Tommy’s shot went wide, shattering what was left of the window. Glass rained down, and I grabbed Rett and wrapped around him, shielding his head with my arms.
Tommy lifted his gun again, and I pulled a shuriken out of my back pocket and flicked it with one flip of my wrist. The pointed star-shaped weapon embedded itself in Tommy’s shoulder.
Screaming, he looked at the silver object protruding from his body, and I used the diversion to tackle him to the floor. The gun in his hand skittered away, and I coldcocked him across the face.
He grunted and tried to buck me off, and I grabbed the shuriken and pushed it deeper into his flesh. He wailed and fell back, blood staining his teeth.
“You should have kept your hands off what’s mine,” I told him.
He pulled a knife from somewhere and swung wide. I caught his wrist and snapped it, the metal falling onto the ground. Tommy howled and tried to regain the knife, but I beat him to it.
The warm rush of blood splattered everything as I sliced across his neck. Tommy’s eyes went wide, shock taking over as he reached up with both hands, trying to keep the blood in even as it oozed freely between his fingers.
Wet sounds gargled from his throat, and when they faded, he was nothing more than a corpse.
Leaving him lying in his own blood, I turned toward Pip, taking in his wide eyes and pale face.
It was one thing to know what I did and another to witness it. This could change things between us. I wasn’t sorry, though. I couldn’t be.
Life rule number one: You touch him, you die.
“Pip,” I said, walking slowly toward him, wanting to give him time to decide if he wanted me close.
Fear flickered over his face, and my heart clenched as he dove for the gun I’d dropped.
I raised my hands, showing him I wasn’t a threat, but he leveled it and pulled the trigger.
I waited for the pain to slam into me even as I prepared to tell him it was okay. If he shot me, it was because he wasafraid and trying to protect himself. And I wanted him to protect himself even from me.
But no pain came, and the fear in Rett’s eyes drained into shock as the gun fell to his side.
