Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I snarl, shoving my forearm against his throat. “Who runs the network?”
His eyes glitter. “You think I’d tell you?”
“Tell me,” I bite out, shoving harder.
He laughs. Actually, fucking laughs. Rage flashes so hot behind my eyes that my vision goes blurry.
I pull back my fist.
But a shot rings out again.
The hitman’s head snaps to the side, his body going slack.
For one stunned second, I just stare at him.
Then I turn and see Rafe with a gun in his hand, and the other hand pressed hard to his bleeding side.
His face is pale now. “Couldn’t let him live,” he manages, then his body slumps forward.
I’m at him in two strides, grabbing him from the ground.
“Stay with me,” I order, but my voice cracks as I haul him upright.
Rafe’s breath shakes. “Don’t . . . don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I snap, dragging him toward the car.
“Sound . . . scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
Lies. I am. I don’t know how I’ll do this alone.
Rafe coughs, blood speckling his lips. “That’s . . . the stupidest lie you’ve ever told.”
“Quit talking. I need to stop the bleeding.” My fingers rip his jacket open.
Blood. So much blood. My stomach roils from the sight.
I press my palm to the wound, hard.
Rafe hisses, grabbing my wrist. “Fuc-fucking shit—you trying to kill me?” He coughs, blood bubbling up out of his mouth.
“Shut up, Rafe. I need to concentrate.”
Rafe’s hand tightens around my wrist, forcing me to look at him.
His eyes are glassy, yet calm.
It terrifies me.
“Find them.”
“I can’t.” My jaw clenches. “He didn’t give me anything.”
“You-you will,” he stutters out.
My throat closes. It feels like a part of me is dying as I watch him struggle to breathe. I lean closer, pressing harder against the wound, panic creeping in like a tide I can’t stop. “Don’t talk.”
Rafe coughs again, then winces. “You—you fix things.”
I stare at him, helpless, furious, shaking. “You were supposed to drag me out of hell.”
Rafe’s gaze softens. “I did.”
I swallow hard. “Not like this.”
Rafe’s breath trembles. “Listen to me.”
My eyes lock onto his.
Rafe’s voice drops, raw. “You can’t . . . you can’t kill the whole world alone.”
“I can,” I snap, tears burning behind my eyes like acid, “and I will.”
Rafe’s mouth curves faintly. “For her.”
“For her,” I confirm.
Rafe’s eyelids flutter. His hand slips from my wrist.
“No,” I bark, grabbing his hand and squeezing hard. “No. Don’t you dare.”
Rafe’s lips part, breathing shallow. “Lorenzo . . .” The way he says my name sounds like an apology, and a tear falls from my eyes.
I press my forehead to his. “Stay.”
Rafe exhales, weak. “Tell . . . tell Matteo I died doing something . . . noble.”
A broken laugh tears out of me. “I will.”
Rafe’s mouth twitches, and a silent sob lodges in my throat.
Rafe’s eyes drift, unfocused. “I-I’m . . .” he whispers.
“Rafe?” I rasp.
“S-sorry,” he breathes out, eyes shutting.
My throat tightens so hard it hurts. “Rafe,” I whisper.
He exhales once.
For a second, I don’t move.
I just stare at him, waiting for him to inhale again.
It never comes.
I have no idea how much time has passed, but my hands are still shaking.
It feels like my chest has been ripped open.
“Fuck,” I whisper, voice breaking. “Fuck.”
My palm stays pressed to the wound even though I already know it doesn’t matter.
Because letting go feels like admitting it.
Admitting he’s gone.
Admitting I’m alone.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a breath.
By the time I make it home, it’s nearly dawn.
The gate opens, and I park before heading into the house.
The guards straighten, and no one speaks because the blood on my shirt does all the talking.
I don’t remember walking through the foyer. I just remember Victoria’s footsteps rushing toward me.
Her hands catch my arm, fingers digging into my sleeve, as her eyes fly over my face and then down to where the blood is.
“Not mine.”
Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out at first.
We stare at each other for a second before she speaks. “Where’s Rafe?”
My throat locks.
I can’t answer.
The silence can answer for me.
Victoria’s body shakes as she takes my hand and guides me down the hall.
“Come on.” Her voice is low and careful, like a loud sound might shatter me. “Shower.”
My feet move because she makes them.
Next thing I know, the bathroom lights flick on.
Victoria turns the water on.
The sound fills the room, soft and steady. I step into the shower fully dressed.
She follows me in, also fully clothed. Together, we stand under the water as it runs down our bodies, washing away the blood.
The fabric of our clothes clings to us, but we don’t move. Hell, I don’t even blink. I don’t do anything except breathe.
Victoria steps closer, hands hovering, uncertain. Her fingers land on my wrist, gentle. “Lorenzo.”
I stare straight ahead.
Her voice softens. “Talk to me.”
My mouth opens.
But still, I have no words to say. Nothing comes out. Nothing makes sense.