Did I kill him?
Then Graham grasped between his legs, eyes wide.
“What the fuck?” he screamed. “You shot me in the dick!”
chapter
fifty-five
Calder
“Oh my god.” Shay stared at Andrew—Graham—bleeding red into the cheap, college-standard carpet.
“You fucking bitch.” Graham groaned, doubling over, forehead hitting the carpet, hands still grasping between his thighs.
“Oh mygod,” she repeated, gaze darting from Graham to the gun still in her hand and back again.
I stepped between her and Graham, clutching her chin and dragging her gaze to mine. Then I gently undid her grip on the gun, turned the safety on, and tucked it into my waistband.
“I didn’t know!” she said. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Oh, this is fucking perfect,” Butcher said. “Better than I could have planned.” Shay’s gaze lifted over my shoulder, as if noticing him for the first time.
Thumb and forefinger grasping her chin, I tugged her gaze back to mine. “Shay.”
Now, with the gun safely tucked in my pants, and Shay out of harm, I examined her. Her lip was bloody, and a violent bruise was blooming across her cheek.
“He hit you,” I said. “Again.”
My hand absently came to the gun in my waistband, itching to shoot.
“I shot him,” she said. “I shot him in thedick.”
My attention shifted from the asshole on the ground to Shay. Her gaze may have been on me, but her attention was elsewhere. Her throat bobbed with swallows, and every now and then she blinked, eyes wide, as if reliving the past few minutes.
“Is he going to die?” she asked.
I fucking hope so.
Butcher went over and slapped Graham on the thigh. He groaned, toppling on his side to the ground.
“He’ll be fine,” Butcher said.
Her brow furrowed and she disappeared into herself again. I guided her toward a free chair, sitting her down. I knelt between her thighs, rubbing up and down, trying to bring her back.
She’d just shot someone, so it wasn’t a shock she was acting like this. Most people went their entire lives without using a gun, let alone unloading it into someone.
But I was so fucking proud of her.
“Shay…” I started, just as Butcher got on the phone, calling in what I assumed was cleanup. Her eyes drifted over my shoulder, watching him.
Less than thirty minutes later, the cavalry arrived. I absently noted them. They didn’t have a tattoo like Butcher and me.
Butcher’s men. Not affiliated with the organization then.
Shay was silent as the room was scrubbed.
I was certain this was it, the moment she finally understood why we couldn’t be together.
