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I jumped on his back and brought the glass down into his neck as hard as I could.

The tip broke skin. He screamed and shifted to the side, stabbing down at Redmond, who rolled to the side and avoided the weapon. I ripped the shard back and sprayed myself with blood before jamming it back into James’s throat, again and again.

He gasped and staggered to the side before falling. We both hit the floor hard. I rolled and got to my knees, and he clutched at his bleeding wound, his eyes wide with fear and shock as they found mine.

“Erin,” he croaked.

I crawled over.

“Erin,” he croaked again. “Sister.”

I leaned forward and drove the glass into his throat. He gagged and tried to breathe through the glass and blood, but choked. He struggled, kicked, pawed at my shoulders, and went still.

I scrambled away as his eyes closed, breathing hard. I stared at James’s body, lips parted in utter shock.

I killed him. I ended his life with a piece of glass. I stabbed him, over and over again.

Arms wrapped around me. Redmond appeared at my side. “It’s okay,” he whispered, and I realized I was crying. “It’s okay. You saved me. You saved me, god damn it. I guess we’re even now.”

I sobbed and let his arms hold me tight.

Chapter 25

Redmond

Palm hired more guards and tried to talk me into staying in bed.

“Fuck that,” I said, getting dressed.

We moved to a new hotel that night. I figured the old one wouldn’t be happy when they found all that blood. I paid an exorbitant bribe to the manager and gave him my card so he could extort me for more cash—which was fine, so long as he kept quiet. We got a fitful night’s sleep with Erin whimpering from bad dreams in my arms, but at least we got some rest. In the morning, Palm came with breakfast.

Erin sat in a chair near the window and didn’t argue as I pulled on my shirt and buttoned it.

Palm rolled her eyes. “It’s bad enough we dragged you out in the middle of the night to come here. You need to be in bed.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Your stitches broke.”

“Doctor fixed them.” I flexed my shoulder, pretending like it didn’t hurt. “Good as new.”

“Lying asshole.” Palm threw her hands up and looked at Erin. “Can you talk some sense into him?”

She shook her head and didn’t look over. “He won’t listen to me either.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourselves. If James hadn’t tried to stab me to death, I’d probably listen. But here we are.” I finished putting on my shirt, grabbed the gun from my bedside table, and shoved it into my pants. “How do I look?”

“Like you got shot.” Palm sighed but she stopped trying to get me back in bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“We need to have a talk with Erin’s people.”

That got Erin’s attention. She looked over, frowning with concern. “My people?”

“In particular, that slippery, dangerous pet of yours, Chika.”

Erin chewed on her lip and stood. “Let’s go.”

“You two are fucking nuts,” Palmira said, but she followed me into the hall and down into the parking structure. We piled into the Rover with Palm behind the wheel and an extra car filled with guards followed. Nobody spoke on the short drive over and I stared out the window, plotting my next move.

Erin was still in shock. I don’t think she’d killed anyone before, and now all the violence in her life was catching up with her. I hated that happened and wished I could’ve done something, but my gun was across the room and when I tried to get it, I ended up ripping my stitches open in a flood of agony. James found me clutching my shoulder in bed, and if it weren’t for Erin, I would’ve died then and there.

I hated my weakness. I despised being unable to protect myself and those I loved. If I hadn’t been shot, none of that would’ve happened, and I could’ve been the one to stop James before he went all psychotic.

I parked outside of the safe house I’d given over to Chika and Erin’s men. I led the way up the steps and knocked before barging inside.

Several of Erin’s soldiers were sitting around a table playing cards and watching TV. Two reached for guns before they recognized me. All of them looked surprised as I swept into the room.

“Easy,” Erin said, following. She blinked like she was waking up from a dream. “Where’s Chika?”

One of the men pointed at a back room. I nodded my thanks and found Chika Abarra standing in the kitchen in front of the stove wearing an apron.

Erin and Palm came in after me. Chika glanced over and frowned.

“Breakfast isn’t ready yet,” she said.

“As much as I’d love your cooking, we’re not here to eat.” I glared at Chika and gestured toward the table. “Let’s talk.”

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