Page 78 of His Hostage

“We paid extra for that product. Anyone could have bought it if they were willing to pay the money,” I tell him. “I had nothing to do with that ambush. It was bad fucking timing. That’s it. How many times do you need to be told that?”

“Tell it to my men. Tell it to all the men in my crew who feel powerless. We’re the outcasts. We’re the rejected. I want to claim what was always our right to have. I want to kill you and your little, pathetic girlfriend,” he says.

That’s the last straw.

“Don’t you ever talk about my girl,” I say, tackling him into the dirt. He screams pathetically, but I punch forward, knocking him in the jaw.

I roll off him, about to stab him in the fucking throat, when I look down at his body. He’s covered in blood.

His eyes are wide. His lips twitch, but his life is slowly fading out.

“Got him in my sights,” Jeffco announces.

Kain grins. “I’ll see you in hell.”

“Take the shot,” I say.

Jeffco fires, and it’s all over. Kaine is finished.

I fall to the ground, breathing deep. What has happened? How did we get to this? All this bloodshed was for nothing.

The Hell Squadron encloses on the Hunters, killing those that choose to fight. Some of them forfeit their weapons when they see that Kaine is nowhere to be found.

“Rowan!” I hear Caroline screaming, but the sound is muffled.

I close my eyes and wait for all of this to end. It’s over. It’s really over.

We won the fight.

29

Caroline

“Rowan, wake up,” I say, wiping the dirt from his face.

The sun is shining down on the devastation. “Baby, wake up. It’s over. Kaine is dead.”

He opens his eyes, but his face is expressionless. “He’s dead,” he says, tears in his eyes. “Caroline, I’m sorry for everything.”

“Why are you apologizing? You’re free. You’re alive,” I say, smiling.

Jeffco and Iago hover over the both of us.

“I’m alive?” I ask.

Jeffco lighst a cigarette and drops one onto Rowan’s body. “Smoke up. Enjoy the new day, brother,” he says.

Rowan grabs the cigarette, and Iago bends down to light it for him. “Fuck,” he sighs after a drag. “We really did it.”

“We did it.” Iago nods. “You should be celebrating. What’re you doing sleeping through the day?”

Sluggishly, Rowan crawls onto his feet and slicks his hair back. “Maybe we won, but that’s not really a cause for celebration. Too many of our men died.”

“Yeah, I know,” Iago says, solemnly.

“I need to talk to you two,” Rowan says.

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