“Problems?”I repeated incredulously.“Looks to me like you’re the only problem here.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“I did what had to be done.”
I laughed once, sharp and humorless.
“I don’t need a babysitter, Archie.”
“Sure doesn’t look that way to me, Tone.”
“You were following me.”
A beat of silence.There it was.My lightbulb moment.Why was Archie Popovich following me?
His gaze held mine.Unapologetic.
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened, irritation sharpening into something far less manageable.
“Why?”
In true Archie style, he didn’t answer.He had a talent for silence; he weighed words before he spent them, decided if you were worth the effort before offering anything at all.
It was infuriating.One of many things about him that got under my skin far more easily than I cared to admit.
“That is not relevant,” he said finally.
I stared at him.
“Not relevant?”I repeated.“You just killed two men and you thinkthatisn’t relevant?”
“They were following you.”
“That still doesn’t explain whyyouwere followingme.”
His expression didn’t shift.But something in his eyes darkened.Quiet.Dangerous.
“What matters,” he said softly, “is that I got to you before anyone else could.”
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
“This is insane,” I muttered.
Behind him, two dead bodies lay crumpled in the car.
Blood spread through the men's clothes, dark and glossy under the streetlight—already beginning to thicken at the edges.
I noticed the smell a second later.Metallic.Warm.Real.
My stomach turned sharply, something cold sliding through my veins as the moment caught up with me all at once.
He’d killed them.Not in a struggle.Not in self-defense.Clean.Controlled.Final.Execution style.The Pope.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, my mind scrambling to catch up with what I’d just witnessed—what he’d just done.
Part of me wanted to scream.Another part wanted to run.
