Page 31 of The Last Dance

“Two buildings north,” Yuri said, never looking up from the wheel. “Rooftop. No time for another shot at this distance. The block ahead is clear.”

Iren’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. He reached up, slow, and touched the side of his face, coming away with a bead of blood from a cut just below his left eye.

He looked at the blood like it was a betrayal.

I turned him toward me, fingers pressing hard into his jaw. “Let me see.”

He let me. He would have let me do anything at that moment. His hands were shaking so bad he couldn’t lower them.

I took out a handkerchief, folded it, and pressed it to the cut. I held it there, and I held his gaze, and I waited for the adrenaline to process itself into words.

He got there, eventually.

“So this is…normal for you?” he said.

“No,” I said. “This is new.”

He stared at the ruined headrest. “Should I be honored?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

He laughed, but it was a dry, scraped sound. “Too late.”

Yuri hit the next turn at speed, the chassis leaning, but not complaining. “Tail?” I asked.

“Clear, but the shooter was not alone. There was a spotter. Car waiting on the cross street.”

I nodded. “Did you get a plate?”

He did. Of course he did. “Already sent to Lin.”

Iren slumped back in the seat, the handkerchief still pressed to his face. The blood was already slowing. The glass powder on his skin made him look like he’d been dusted for evidence at a crime scene.

“Parsons isn’t this smart,” I said.

“No,” Iren said, voice steadier now. “He’s not even this punctual.”

“Anyone else?”

He shook his head. “I told you, my enemies list is—” He stopped. Something cold passed through his expression. “Never mind.”

I waited. He didn’t offer more so I let it go.

The car cut through the last three blocks in silence, only the tick of the blinker and the hiss of the engine filling the air. Iren’s head lolled to the side, and I could see him tracing the bullet trajectory in his mind, playing the instant over and over, looking for the point where he could have moved, should have ducked, might have died.

I put my arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. He didn’t fight it. He just leaned, letting the weight of me anchor him. The glass crunched under his elbow as he shifted.

I watched the city through the broken rear window, watching for movement, for anyone tracking us. There was nothing.

Iren’s voice was small. “Am I worth this much trouble?”

I didn’t answer.

He closed his eyes and let his head rest on my chest.

I let him stay there.

We reached the estate in six minutes flat. The gates opened before Yuri finished the turn. Inside, the staff was already deployed: Lin at the door, two security on the perimeter, one at the garage. No one looked at the car, but I could feel their eyes on the shattered window, on the damage, on Iren and the way he was held.