I rip the golden mask from his face and punch him across the jaw, leaning in so he can see my eyes clearly. He blinks through the pain, wincing and working his jaw, struggling against the ropes that tie him to the chair.

I prowl around him like a restless animal, hungry for blood and on the edge of losing myself. How long has it been since I walked away from her for the second time? Two weeks? Three? It’s all been a blur of too little sleep and far too much bloodshed. All I have to do to find these gold masked fuckers is tail Makayla. It’s like a small army of the worthless pricks is out there, creeping around. The toughest part is sifting through the pretenders and the real deal. Ever since the news picked up the story of the “Gold Stalkers”, there has been an explosion of activity. Celebrities are being kidnapped, beaten, and even killed.

“Who do you work for?” I ask.

I already suspect this guy isn’t just a pretender by the way he took my punch. He’s a professional. Not like the last couple I rounded up.

“Who do you think?” he asks.

My fist snaps out as I land another hard punch across his already bruised face. I nearly topple him and the chair, but he manages to stay upright. “You’re going to kill me anyway. Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because there are all kinds of ways to die. And I can get real fucking creative if you piss me off.”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head slowly. “The reward isn’t good enough for this shit.”

I turn, a little surprised at his change of heart. I listen intently, sensing that he’s about to finally tell me something I don’t know. “Reward?”

“Yeah. The price on Makayla Pierson’s head. Whoever clips her gets the money. That simple.”

“Who’s offering the money?”

“No idea. But whoever it is has enough influence to get the message trickling through most of the top military contractors. There are a ton of ex-military with their eye on the reward, but a rumor also spread pretty fast that people who tail Makayla have a tendency to turn up dead. Still, it’s only a matter of time before someone hungry enough gets to her.”

I clench my fists. “Anything else?”

He sniffs, looking down sadly and shaking his head. “That’s pretty much it. Can you try not to fuck up my face when you kill me?” he asks. “I got family.”

I pull a knife from my hip and kneel in front of him. He watches the tip closely. I reach behind him and cut the ropes holding him in place. “Get the fuck out of here. If I see you within a mile of Makayla again, I’ll end you, and your face will look like a Mr. Potato Head toy by the time I’m done with it.”

He smirks. “Fair enough.”

I help him to stand and watch as he hobbles out of the building. It’s one of half a dozen properties I own around the city. They serve as safe houses and double as investments. Lately, they have been good locations to torture and dispose of the people who aim to hurt Makayla.

I rub my lips slowly, trying to think of how I’m going to deal with this. They may have just been words, but I didn’t like that he said someone would get to her eventually. I realize it’s true. I can’t just keep picking off the runoff like this. I need to find a way to Liam, or this is never going to end. But I have a sinking feeling I’m not dealing with just one person. I think this whole mess might just be a convenient smokescreen for the real people behind it. Someone is looking to gain something from Makayla’s death, I just need to figure out what.. I know Liam is using the situation to lash out at me for personal reasons, it’s the person who ordered the hit on Makayla that is the true danger.

What a clusterfuck.

I swore I wouldn’t hurt her again, and look at the shit I’ve pulled. I walked away without a single word, leaving Edwards and Rosenthal to deal with the fallout. They might not seem like much, but aside from myself, they are the best in the business. Even so, I’m not letting Makayla out of my sight. No matter how it looks, she’s still mine to protect. The only difference is now she doesn’t know I’m taking care of her, that I’m keeping her safe by staying away. My stomach turns a little when I realize how similar a path I’m walking to the one I’ve spent ten years regretting, when I hurt her to protect her.