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That possibility hurts.

It does not change my decision.

“If she does, she gets to.”

His smile disappears.

There.

That is the difference.

I do not need Sweet to approve of what I am.

I need to stop lying about it.

I draw my gun.

Razor looks at it, then at me.

“You going to tell her?”

“Yes.”

He actually laughs. “Stupid.”

“Probably.”

“You think she wants to know her biker killed a man over her?”

“I ain't killing you over her.”

His brows draw together.

“I’m killing you because you stalked a woman who told you to leave her alone. You broke into protected property. You assaulted her. You abducted her. You held a knife on her. You nearly killed her. And if I leave you breathing, you’ll spend every breath figuring out how to do it again.”

His throat moves.

“This ain't romance.”

I lift the gun.

“It’s my job.”

One shot.

Quick.

Final.

Razor drops beside the place he tried to use as Sweet’s grave.

For a few seconds, nobody says anything.

Then Nevermore exhales. “Well.”

Hyde looks at the body, then at the hole.

“What are we doing with him?”