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Needed to give Liam and James yet another reason to shit their pants.
“You ready?”
“I’ve been preparing for this day for five years,” I responded in a low voice.“I’ll check in when it’s done.”
With slow, deliberate movements, I rose from my hiding spot in the dense woods surrounding the simple log cabin. Every step I took was calculated, each footfall carefully placed as to make as little noise as possible, each crunch of my boots against the leaves and sticks amplified.
When I reached the back door, I paused, my fingers hovering over the keypad.
This was it — the point of no return. Once I walked into this house and killed Alton, there would be no turning back. It would set everything else into motion.
But it wasn’t too late yet.
I could still back out.
I already had Imogene, in a way. Wasn’t that enough?
I wanted it to be. There was a time I might have been happy with that.
That was before I truly understood what these men I once considered friends had done.
All to pad their pockets.
I couldn’t let them get away with it any longer.
They needed to learn exactly what it felt like to lose everything. To feel powerless as their world crumbled around them.
To stare into my eyes as they realized the truth of who was behind their demise.
Just as I did.
Pushing down any lingering doubts, I punched the unlock code Henry had given me into the pad. When it beeped, I quietly opened the door and slipped into the darkened kitchen. I removed my gun from its holster, keeping it raised, just in case.
“He’s in the study. Front left of the house,” Henry instructed through my earpiece.
I nodded, silently moving through the kitchen and into the living area, pausing outside a wooden door that was slightly ajar.
Closing my eyes, I took a steadying breath, steeling myself for what I was about to do. There was once a time when I couldn’t fathom the idea of taking another man’s life.
That was before I had no choice but to kill or be killed. Alton’s actions had turned me into a killer.
It was time he suffered the consequences.
Touching my hand against the wood, I pushed the door open and stepped into the study.
A loud, unexpected creak reverberated through the dimly lit room, causing Alton to startle from his place on the leather couch. He straightened, fumbling for the gun he’d carelessly left abandoned on the coffee table.
Unfortunately for him, the scotch he’d consumed throughout the day left his reflexes slow, allowing me to grab the weapon with my gloved hand before he could.
“Nice try,” I said, shoving his gun into the back of my pants as I kept my weapon trained on him. “Here’s a tip. If you’re worried someone might find you after you cost them their life’s savings, it’s probably best younotdrink yourself into a stupor.”
“Gideon.”
He swallowed hard, his normally red face becoming ashen, his chin trembling. Beads of sweat formed on his lip and forehead, his eyes focused on the gun in my hand.
I knew exactly how he felt. It was how I felt when I saw the man I trusted more than anyone point a gun at me.
Except he didn’t give me an explanation. Didn’t give me a chance to stop him. Instead, he pulled the trigger and left me for dead.
