I shot forward the moment I saw Jessica’s eyes roll back and caught her just as her legs buckled. I barked orders at Beck and Conor to get cold towels and water and had her on the couch within seconds.
“What the fuck was on her phone?” Beck yelled from the kitchen.
I brushed my hands over her neck, feeling her rapid pulse and taking in her pale lips and clammy skin for a few moments before I hurried to snatch her phone off the floor.
By the time I was sliding back to her side, Beck and Conor were both running into the room.
I stared at the screen as Conor placed the towel on her forehead, rage burning deep within me.
“What?” Beck bit out.
I handed him the phone and felt myself slip into that dark, dark place.
Not a sound. Not a trace.
Feed the blade. Watch the light fade.
Pull her closer. Keep her safe, safe, safe.
“Who is that?” he asked.
“Jessica’s brother and his wife.”
Beck moved around the couch to look me in the eye. “Wait. She really has a brother?”
I slanted him a glare and dropped my head into my hands, trying to figure out what I was going to do.
Mickey had sent a picture of Jentry and his girl eating, with two messages below.
You belong to me.
I want you on your knees, begging me to give you one last chance.
That monster inside snarled in response and beat on his chest.
Mine, mine, mine.
“Jesus fuck.” Beck’s usual curse was a pained wheeze. “Jesus fucking fuck,” he suddenly roared.
My hands dropped and head snapped up, my body instantly tense.
“Look where they are.” He shoved the phone at me, but didn’t give me a chance to look before he said, “That’s Brooks Street Café.”
I relaxed and dropped the phone to the floor. With everything happening, Mickey following Jentry into Dare’s mom’s café was the least of my worries. Having Jentry in his crosshairs? That was fucked.
“The Borellos own most of Wake Forest, Beck. Mickey doesn’t know Brooks Street is Borello owned . . . Dare made sure of that.”
But Beck was pacing, hands fisted in his hair, chest heaving.
“Beck—”
“She’s there, man.” When my brow pulled together in confusion, he gritted his teeth and said, “Lily.”
I ignored the residual ache in my chest and shook my head. “You don’t know that.”
“She manages the café now. She’s there every morning.”
I hissed out a curse and stood, my attention going to the girl on the couch.
There was color returning to her face and her pulse was slower and steadier, but I couldn’t wait for her to wake up. Besides, I needed her to stay here. I knew she’d try to come with me since it involved her brother.
Looking to Conor, I opened my mouth but he beat me to it. “I know, man. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”
I gave him a firm nod then turned to Beck. “Ready to finish this?”
“Fuck yeah, man.” He hit me on the shoulder and stopped so he was directly in front of me. “See you in hell?”
“See you there.”
“Did you see that?” he asked as we stalked toward the door. “I just hit you, and you didn’t even try to stop me.”
My chest moved with a silent laugh. “Shut up, Beck.”
His loud laugh was still echoing through the house when he flung open the door and stepped onto the porch.
With another look at my girl, who was starting to move on the couch, I grabbed the handle and softly shut the door behind us.
“What happens if we make it to Brooks and they’re not there?” Beck asked as we hurried across the porch and onto the massive lawn stretching between the guesthouse and my car.
“I don’t know. He’s too unpredictable.”
I turned when I heard our names being called and mumbled a curse when Conor came running out of the guesthouse, holding Jessica’s phone. “I told you not to leave that house,” I bit out when he got closer to us. “Or that girl.”
“Didn’t you just tell me that Mickey had Tommy killed?” he asked, ignoring me and holding out the phone.
“Why?” I demanded, snatching the phone from him and immediately going still.
Below the previous texts was a picture of Tommy.
It wouldn’t have meant anything if he hadn’t been standing outside the tent I’d just cleared out that morning.
Does your boyfriend think he’s the only one with secrets?
“Get Jessica,” I demanded on a breath and turned to look everywhere as my heart rate slowed.
Suddenly my palms were filled with the steel of my knives, comforting and calming me.
Not a sound. Not a trace.
Feed the blade. Watch the light fade.
Conor had barely started back when a gunshot rang out and something hit my shoulder, forcing me backward just as Beck came barreling into me, sending me to the ground as another two shots tore through the air.
I locked on to a man who should have been a ghost as he took aim at Conor and rolled to my knees, throwing a knife into his chest and another into his outstretched forearm while I pushed to my feet. I ran in a dead sprint toward him, grabbing two more knives as he lethargically turned toward me, the gun in his hand drooping and then falling to the ground when one of my knives hit right between his eyes.
Gripping the hilt, I used it to yank his head back and sneered, “You should’ve stayed dead, Tommy,” then drew my last blade across his throat and pushed him back.
The monster raged inside as I bent to retrieve my blades.
Keep her safe, safe, safe.
My head whipped around to where Conor was standing halfway to the guesthouse, back toward it, gun in hand and face leeched of color.
“Get Jessica,” I yelled, swiping at the last knife and turning to see what he was staring at.
It was instant.
The way the darkness receded.
The way everything felt as if it dropped out from under me.
The way I could no longer breathe for reasons that had nothing to do with a monster and everything to do with the hand squeezing and splintering my heart.
No. No, no, no.
“Beck . . .” I took an unsteady step forward, then stumbled a few steps before I was running to where he lay, the grass soaked in his blood. “No, no, no. Fuck, Beck. Come on, let’s get you—” I froze when he coughed, blood spraying and pooling out of his mouth when he tried to smile at me. “The fuck did you do?”
“You weren’t looking.” He wheezed a wet-sounding laugh, tears streaming down his cheeks. “That’s my hit to take.”
A mixture between a sob and a laugh burst from my chest. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Beck. You’re such an idiot. Why’d you get in the way?”
“Hey . . . remember Aric’s funeral?” he asked. A pained breath worked up his throat, shaking his entire body before he was able to continue. “You lost it. Remember?”
“Yeah, man. I remember.”
“Don’t do that at mine. Don’t make someone . . . knock you out . . . to control you.”
Another laugh ripped from somewhere deep within me, mixing with my sobs. I dropped my head when it became too hard to see him anymore, and somehow I managed a nod.
“Jess . . .”
I looked up to see his tears falling harder, his mouth working but no sound coming out. “I’ll take care of her.”
Another wet cough wracked his body, but that damn smile was there as soon as he settled. “See you in hell?”
I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out, but it somehow still escaped me. “See you in hell.”
His head shook in a quick bounce of a nod and his chest heaved with a choked sob. His stare fell to something past me and tried to focus. “I’m dead. Or this is . . . my nightmare.” He sluggishly moved his hand to his chest, loosely holding one of the knives I’d dropped beside him.
I tried to call back the darkness. I tried to focus on all the blood surrounding Beck and covering my hands to summon him. But there were only flickers as my grief crashed into me in waves.
Jessica’s heart-wrenching cry slammed into me, threatened to knock me over, and making me lose the frail connection I’d made with the monster.
Wiping my blood-soaked hand on my shirt, I took the knife from Beck and slowly looked over my shoulder.
Like before . . . it was instant. Only now the monster came forward in an explosion of rage and need.
Not a sound. Not a trace.
Feed the blade. Watch the light fade.
Pull her closer. Keep her safe, safe, safe.
Jessica was bent, eyes locked on Beck as sobs wracked her body.
Mickey had Jessica by her hair at his side, victorious smirk on his face and gun in hand.
Pride surged through me, seeing the bloodied nail marks across his cheek and the blood swirling down his arm.
She fought.
“Your dad would be disappointed in what you’ve turned into,” Mickey said, like those words had the power to hurt me.
“Because I’m not you?”
“Because you’re weak,” he said, malice in his tone. “I’ve watched my friends die. I’ve buried my children. Do you think I ever cried?”
My stare flashed to movement behind Mickey, and I slowly dropped my knife to pick up what lay between Beck and me. “Then he would be proud that I hated what the two of you created in me too much to cry over his death. Or yours.”
His mouth pulled into that blinding smile as he raised his gun at me. “I’ll make sure we don’t cry over yours.”
“You’re touching what’s mine,” I said in a grave tone and lifted Beck’s gun, taking aim at the man I’d fantasized of killing for most my life.
Mickey laughed long and loud and jerked Jessica closer to him. “Oh, please pull that trigger. I’d love to watch you try to hit me seeing as you don’t know how to use a gun.”
I nodded toward the house. “He does.”
Mickey didn’t have time to turn before Conor fired, pulling the trigger again and again until he’d emptied his entire magazine into the boss of Holloway.
I had already pushed to my feet and was running toward Jessica, grabbing her and pulling her away before Mickey could fall to the ground.
I ran my hands over her tear-streaked face, looking for any sign that he’d hurt her before wrapping her in my arms. Her body shook with sobs, her fingers trembling as she gripped my shirt to pull me closer.
My chest heaved with uneven, ragged breaths as I held her, trying to force myself to say something to her.
Tell her it was over. Tell her it was okay.
But Beck was somewhere behind me in a pool of blood. Nothing was okay.
I twisted to find Conor already beside his brother, knees bent and head dropped low as he squeezed Beck’s hand. His agonized cries slaying me.
I hissed and jerked away from Jessica’s touch, grabbing her hand before she could brush against my shoulder again.
She looked up, her face falling when she saw the entry wound from Tommy’s bullet. She stammered for something to say then forced out, “What happ . . . Are you okay?”
Dropping her hand, I tilted her head back and locked on to her red, swollen eyes. “If you want to talk to Beck, we need to go.”
I didn’t want to think of the possibility that it was already too late.
She tried to drop her head, her hands flattening on my chest just below where I’d been shot. “Kieran, are you—?”
“I’m fine.” I tried to sound assuring, because physically, I was. Pulling her toward Conor’s cries, I whispered, “Beck needs you.”
Her face crumpled and her shoulders sagged, but she nodded weakly.
When we were a few feet from the brothers, Jessica slipped away from me and hurried to Beck’s side, dropping to her knees as a hard sob sounded in her chest.
My splintered heart wrenched when he weakly lifted a hand to touch her arm.
“No, you don’t get to die,” she cried out, her words coated with anger and grief. “I didn’t spend the last ten years protecting you for you to get yourself killed now.”
Beck smiled weakly. “This is right. You yelling at me. That’s my Jess.”
Her body trembled violently as she grabbed his hand in hers. “You can’t leave me too. You’re the only one who’s always been there, Beckham. Please don’t leave.”
“I’d just ruin—” A gurgling noise sounded deep in his chest before he was choking and coughing up more blood.
Jessica froze with her free hand hovering over him like she was going to try to make it stop.
When he settled, he said, “Just ruin your life.”
“Then stay and ruin it,” she whispered. “Stay and continue being the best and worst friend I’ve ever had.”
An easy smile crossed his face. “Like being the best. At something.”
A soggy laugh tumbled from Jessica’s lips. “I love you for always being there.”
Tears filled his eyes. “Always loved you.”
My stomach dropped when his body relaxed. “Beck?” I hurried around him and dropped to the ground above his head, my hands going to his neck to check for a pulse that wasn’t there. “Beck?” I ground out, still searching even though he was looking up, unseeing, with an expression I’d seen more times in my life than I wanted to admit.
My body bowed, my heart shattering under my grief.
From the time he and Conor had been brought to Holloway eleven years ago, Beck had been trying to figure out how to get them out. I’d promised I would make it happen.
Now we were steps away from being free of this life, and I’d lost another brother because I hadn’t been fast enough.
I refused to lose anyone else. I refused to be chained to this world any longer.
“I’m going to finish this. I’ll get them out of this life. I’ll make sure they have what you always wanted for them,” I vowed and moved my trembling fingers to close his eyes. “See you in hell, brother.”