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I should’ve known he’d find a loophole. Men like Remy usually do, but I don’t feel the rage I usually would. Or the urge to rip Remy into pieces.
Instead, I feel this strange sense of peace and calm wash over me as I cling to thoughts of Isabella and the life we can have together. Somewhere out there, she’s waiting for me, and she’s willing to build a life with me, and it’s all I need to know to lie there and wait.
It’s all been worth it to have even a fraction of what I’ve had with Isabella.
When I twist my head to look at Tristan, he is clenching and unclenching his hands. Abruptly, he stops and lowers his gaze so he’s looking directly at me. A heartbeat later, some of the color drains from his face, and he takes an uncertain step back.
Can he see the acceptance on my face? Can he tell that I’ve accepted whatever comes next because I know what I’ve done?
Isabella and our daughter will be taken care of no matter how tonight ends.
And I’ve always known everything I’ve done will catch up to me, but I never imagined it would be like this. Like most men, I thought consequences would come in my old age, with my youth and power far behind me, but it seems oddly fitting that this is how it would all unfold.
And at the hands of a Donahue seems like poetic justice. A Donahue started my downfall, so it seems fitting one would strike the final deadly blow.
I give Tristan another long and measured look before I look back up at the ceiling and release a deep breath. Then, I simply wait.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Carter
Suddenly, Tristan’s phone rings, slicing through the air and earning a few startled looks from everyone in attendance. He fishes it out of his pocket and silences it. A moment later, it rings again, louder this time, and a furrow appears between his brows. With a frown, he turns his back on me, and I can barely make out his low and clipped tone.
Until I hear Isabella’s name and the word hospital. Suddenly, I realize I’m not ready to give up yet.
In one quick move, I shove Remy off and jump to my feet. Startled, he stumbles back, and his eyes widen. “You said you weren’t going to fight back.”
“I don’t like it when people don’t honor their side of the deal.” I roll my shoulders and take a step forward. “You breached our deal first. Remember that, will you?”
Remy takes a few steps back until his back collides with the table. “You know this isn’t the answer.”
“You don’t know shit, Remy,” I tell him with a grim smile. “You wanted to play with the big boys. Welcome to the big leagues.”
With that, I throw a punch that has him doubling over in pain. He wheezes and sputters as I grab the back of his neck and yank. His eyes are glazed over with pain, and panic plays out across his features as I throw another punch. Then I throw him onto the floor and step over him. I’m in front of the double doors when Remy lays a hand on my shoulder.
Red-hot fury is pumping through me as I spin around and push his fingers back with a crack.
He howls and cradles his hand against his chest. “You’re insane.”
“Back the fuck off,” I growl, pausing to bare my teeth at him. “Or it won’t end well for you.”
Remy uses his free hand to throw a punch that I easily sidestep. He is losing more and more of the color in his face, but he’s still upright. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t annoyed at his insistence on getting in my way. I throw another punch that has him staggering back and sending drops of blood in every direction. With a frown, I grab Remy by the scruff of his neck and bring his face up to mine.
He holds my gaze in spite of his tremor. “This is who you really are. Admit it. Rich was right to try and end you.”
I shove Remy away and clench my hands into fists. “Fucking yield.”
Remy spits out a mouthful of blood. “Never.”
I advance on him again, and he crashes into a chair nearby, toppling it over. Breathing heavily now, he’s on the floor, on his hands and knees. A moment later, he pushes himself up to his feet and uses the back of his hand to wipe away the blood. His injured hand is held at an odd angle, and he looks like he’s going to be sick, but he still won’t back down.
Fucking hell.
I have to get to Isabella, but I can’t walk away while he’s still on his feet because I have no idea what he’s going to do next. Or what kind of reckless stunt he’ll pull to get to me.
I can’t lead him straight to Isabella, no matter how much I want to get to her. No matter how much I need to be sure she’s okay.
Remy staggers on unsteady feet, his breathing growing more and more rapid. “If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me.”
