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Summer's shoulders pulled back.

Her legs spread.

Then her finger moved to the trigger.Twenty-eightSummerMy mother made one mistake that morning.

It wasn't trusting a woman who, it was painfully obvious to me, absolutely loathed her.

It wasn't insulting the Henchmen.

It wasn't even showing her weakness in needing my father.

No.

Her mistake was underestimating me.

It was in overestimating how much I was willing to take. How often I was willing to be beat down. How often she could poke at me before I finally lost it.

And I fucking lost it.

My eyes had been on Reign when she delivered the blow that made me finally decide I wasn't going to be a victim again. When she insinuated that Martin had been raping me. When I saw the absolute, soul crushing fury overtake Reign. Not disgust. Not sadness. Anger.

He didn't think I was damaged.

He didn't care.

He just wanted vengeance.

Then Martin sealed his fate by knocking me onto the ground.

For the last time.

The. Mother. Fucking. Last. Time.

I was done.

My knees hit hard, the pain jolting through my system. And I knew what I had to do. For my own sanity. To take back my control.

I pulled my leg up, turned, reached in.

My fingers brushed against the gun for the second time that morning.

Inside, I slipped off the safety.

Then I was flying onto my feet, the gun grasped between my two hands and turning to aim it at Martin, my finger still off the trigger.

Martin's head jerked back slightly, surprise registering on his face at the sight of the gun.

Then the idiot opened his mouth.

If he hadn't, well, things would have gone differently. Because I could feel the weight of the decision weigh on me. It wasn't the rush of relief I felt when I had decided to end my own life. No, this was different. This was heavy. This was full of some feeling I wasn't familiar with that had my throat closing up, the saliva drying in my mouth.

“Oh,” Martin said, giving me one of his cold, condescending smiles, “you don't have the balls.”

Three months worth of torment flew over my eyes. His fists in my face. His feet in my center. His knife in my back. His hands on my throat. His hand in my hair as he reached to pull his dick out of his pants, intent on shoving it down my throat.

And my legs spread.

My finger slipped to the trigger.

“Go to hell,” I growled.

And I pulled.

I pulled the trigger.

The jolt of the gun was met with the exploding sound of a bullet firing.

And I watched in fascinated horror as it tore through the center of his forehead, red splaying out in a shocking burst. His body jerked, wobbled, then fell.

He was dead.

His eyes never lost life.

Because they never had it to begin with.

“Bravo,” V's voice said and I heard her start clapping. My eyes, and therefore, my gun, turned to her. Her gray eyes were bright in... what? Enjoyment. Oh, holy hell. It was enjoyment. She was so fucking insane. “I was wondering when you would hit your limit. I didn't think it was because he knocked you onto your knees though.”

“No?” I asked, my hands starting to shake a little as I kept the aim on my mother. “Maybe it was because he had me in that very same position up in the bathroom before Daniel called me down here.”

For a second, something flashed in her eyes. And I knew she knew that Martin had stopped having access to my room at night. Her taunt was meant to incite Reign.

Well, that was her second mistake.

Because, at that moment, I was a much worse threat than he was.

“I have to ask,” V went on, like I wasn't holding a gun on her. A gun I had just used without flinching. My finger still on the trigger. “If you've had a gun this whole time, why has it taken you so long to use it?”

I couldn't tell you why. But the truth came out.

“I wasn't going to use it on any of you.”

Her head cocked to the side. “No?”

“No,” I answered, my mouth tight. “I was going to use it on myself.”

The second the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could suck them back. Because the air in the room went sharp. It was painful. It hurt to breathe in.

“You were going to kill yourself?” V asked, her eyes squinting. “What a coward's move.”

“Yes, how dare I find a way out of being beat and starved and humiliated? How dare I try to save the people I care about from storming in here and getting themselves killed because of me?”

Okay. The second that was out, I wanted to suck it back too.

“Summer,” Daniel's voice shocked me by breaking in. His hands were out, palms facing me. “Why don't you put the gun down and let V and Lo finish their meeting?”

“Fuck their meeting,” I shot back.

“Summer,” the other woman's voice reached me. Lola. That was her name. Her tone was firm, but soft at the same time. And for some reason, it got through. “We need to finish our meeting so we can settle things.” When I didn't move to put the gun down, she added softly... “Reign?”

And then an arm was around my waist. Firm. Familiar. His other arm reached out, pressing down the top of mine until the gun lowered to point at the floor. “Keep your finger on the trigger,” he whispered into my ear and it took everything in me to not fall back against him, to melt, to finally give up fighting.

V turned back to Lola. “Well, now, what kind of offer do you have on the table for me?”

“I could turn over Richard Lyon,” Lola said, shrugging.

“What? No,” I found myself objecting, my body going tight again.

“Even trade. Him for the girl. She's useless to you anyway,” Lola went on.

“N...”

“Sh,” Reign said in my ear, effectively shutting up my objections.

V pursed her lips, taking a breath. “Can I trust you not to trick me anymore, Lo? I mean, you did bring Henchmen into my house.”

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