Page 71 of Brutal Truths

Turning to face me, Silas grabs the front of my shirt. I’ve got height on him, but that doesn’t stop him. He gets in my face like he owns the space.

“Fine. Use your toys to draw them out. But let me make one thing perfectly clear: that fucker is mine. You don’t kill him. If you do, I’ll kill you just because I can.”

Before I can respond, a scuffle breaks out inside, then loud shouts in Russian. Abruptly, it cuts off.

Silence.

The three of us stand there, listening, waiting for something. And then…

Bang!

The sound is unmistakable.

A single gunshot. Then, nothing.

Zander and I exchange a look. No words, just quick hand signals, mapping out the next move.

Thankfully, Silas doesn’t feel the need to talk. He falls in behind Zander as we move.

As soon as we’re at the barn, I signal them to hold and start inching forward toward a knot hole. But before I get there, the unmistakable roar of multiple engines, one after another, echoes from the back of the barn.

Shit.

Time to speed things up.

Zander takes point, and we circle around to the back just in time to catch four ATVs tearing off, leaving a cloud of dust chasing them as they disappear.

Nothing about this sits right.

What the hell happened in there? Who got shot? And why the hell did they bail before we got here?

“Can I fucking go inside now?” Silas snaps, already making a beeline for the door.

I don’t waste time telling him to stop. Not when I see what he doesn’t. He’s not trained to notice the details like I’ve been.

I surge forward at a pace that will hurt when I slam into him. Better that than dying. Because if he opens that door, we’ll be blown to smithereens.

Chapter 21

Aiden

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Silas snarls, spitting a mouthful of dirt onto the ground as I roll off of him. “Slowly and painfully.”

I’m already on my feet, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. “Well, at least you didn’t kill all of us by opening that door.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” On a grunt, he pushes off the ground, soil staining his expensive suit.

Then, he spots the damage, a tear in his trousers.

His gaze sharpens, a low snarl building in his throat. “Forget the dry cleaning. You’re replacing this suit, along with my shoes.”

“I’m sure I’ll owe you a few more things before we’re done.” A new wardrobe is the least of my problems. “But a thank you would be nice, seeing as I just saved your fucking life.”

Brushing the dirt off his suit, he narrows his eyes. “Explain and maybe I’ll say it, but don’t hold your breath.”

Behind us, Zander is barely holding it together. It’s not funny, but the fucker would test the patience of a saint. He knows how close we came to death.

Doesn’t matter. Silas only says thank you to one person, and only when he’s got no other choice.