Page 73 of My Cruel Salvation

“I can go with you.”

“No. I know you could, but I don’t want you there. I have to do this alone.”

Ronan nodded slowly. “Then I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Not me.”

Ronan laughs. “Well, I suppose that is true. Good luck, man.”

Ronan’s wish of good luck stuck with him as he left the base on the East Coast and traveled west to Nevada. He went in secret, using routes that he’d planned years ago, winding his way into the compound undetected, as only someone who had grown up there could possibly know how to do. He got himself situated, hiding near the practice range where his father went every morning. His post was a quarter of a mile away, and he laid in the dirt, his rifle at the ready for more than half an hour until the man finally appeared.

Daniel Lopez, AKA The Wolf. He had his pistol in his hand, his shoulders thrown back, his chest out. He walked with a pride he didn’t deserve, his step heavy.

If he carried the weight of any of the thousands of people whose deaths he has caused, Alex didn’t see it. Finally, his father was in position standing on the range, his gun lifted towards the target.

Alex never gave him time to shoot. He’d already aimed his own rifle, and he gently pulled the trigger. He’d made allowances for the wind, for the distance, and the shot was clean. Right through his father’s eye, the kind of shot that would have made his father proud.

The report rang out across the compound. He hadn’t used a silencer. He hadn’t wanted to.

Now, he packed up his gear and moved out quickly, once again using the knowledge he had gained from living in this hell to get him out without anyone seeing him. Once he was clear of the compound, he took the car that had been left for him and drove to the pre-arranged safe house. He stayed there for a week, before receiving his instructions.

He followed them to the next safe house, then a week after that to the next. Finally he ended up in the last safe house that also acted as a medical facility. He was there two months. But it was worth the time, and it was worth the pain because when he walked out after what felt like an eternity it wasn’t Alejandro Lopez who was leaving that place.

It was Devlin Saint, and he was walking into a whole new life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The present…

I let Devlin drive Shelby because I want to call Brandy as soon as we get in the car. She answers on the first ring, and I blurt, “How are you doing?”

“Good.” The word is hard, and I hear no sound of tears, so I’m grateful for that. “Fury is making it easier to deal,” she says, as if answering my unspoken question.

“I’m glad to hear it.” I grimace. “Not the fury part, but the—”

“—the part where I’m not completely breaking down into a sobbing little ball and whimpering in the corner until you get back?”

I laugh. “Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but that’s the basic idea. You’re really okay?”

“Yeah. I think so. I’m just—I’m just so damn angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been this angry in all my life.”

“It’s because Walt’s horrible, and he’s trying to suggest that it’s Devlin who’s the one who’s a terrible person.”

“That’s it. Yes. That’s it exactly. He’s a total creep, and he’s latching onto the fact that Devlin’s getting all this crap thrown on him. And he’s more than happy to catch me in the middle of it just so he can try to, I don’t know, get his name in the news or something. Does he think I won’t fight this? Does he think I won’t tell what he did?”

I don’t answer that. Of course he thinks that she won’t say anything. It’s been years, and she said nothing. What else would he think? He doesn’t know that she was prepared to speak out tonight to protect Devlin, something I love her even more for. But I’m glad it didn’t go that way. Devlin is steel, but Brandy’s softer. And the truth is, I don’t want fate to temper her.

“Please tell me you two are on your way over here. I thought I wanted to be alone, but it turns out I want company in my fury.”

“We are,” I assure her. “We’re going to pop by Devlin’s first, because he needs to pick something up. But then we’ll be there. Is that okay? Do you need us to come sooner? You’re sure you’re okay?” I sound like a machine gun firing questions at her, and I try to ramp it back, but I’m angry, and I’m scared for her.

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m fine. Truly. I’m just pissed, and I want my friends.”

“Okay. Good. Stay pissed, and we’ll join you in that as soon as we get there.”

“No worries about that. I have a feeling I’m going to be pissed for at least twenty-four hours. Then it might settle down into a slow burn, but I kind of doubt it.”

Despite everything I laugh. “Alarm set?”