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“This, old friend,” Lincoln drawls, “is your reckoning.”
Cade pulls me back into the shadows a little, leaving the two men to face off against each other. I sense his hesitation, his confusion at the revelations. It bleeds from him like sticky black tar.
“Cade, let me go,” I whisper. “You have to let me—"
“Shut up.” He smashes the gun against my temple, making me wince in agony as my body slumps further against him.
“You said you didn’t know Cade’s whereabouts,” Phillip says coolly.
“I know everything. I know that you sent me away and made me into a monster. I know you had Gregory killed when he started taking too much power for himself. I know you want to extinguish the Kingsley line.”
“That’s not—"
“Silence,” Lincoln booms. “I’m talking now. I told you, Cargill, I fucking told you that Q’s days were numbered. With Cade by my side, we’ll be unstoppable.”
“You’re deluded, Linc. There are rules—"
“Rules?Rules?” He growls the words, getting in Phillip’s face. But Phillip remains deathly still.
“Gregory was a liability to everything we’ve built here. Our associates appreciate our discretion and levelheadedness. Your brother became too obsessed with the old ways. Ways that draw attention, that make people talk.”
“My brother was a good man who deserved more.”
“Your brother was a bloodthirsty sociopath who abused his son.”
A tremor goes through Cade.
“You knew?” Disbelief coats his words as his grip on me loosens enough that I crumple to the ground.
“We had suspicions,” Phillip addresses him, “yes. We thought Mia would soften you, give you something to—"
“Stop, just stop!” Cade runs a hand over his face. “You played me. You all fucking played me. But I’m done playing. I’m done being everyone’s pawn.” He aims the gun at Phillip.
“Fuck you, Cargill. And fuck Quinctus.”
I brace myself for the gunshot, muffling the whimper that crawls up my throat as it pierces the air.
Only it isn’t Phillip who falls to the ground.
It’s Lincoln.
28
Bexley
I'm still pressing my sopping wet shirt to Channing's stomach when the sound of tires on gravel out the front of the cabin hits my ears.
"They're here," I tell him despite the fact that he lost the fight to keep his eyes open at least ten minutes ago.
He's still breathing. I keep checking every few seconds, but it's dangerously shallow.
"Over here," I call when the door swings open and footsteps thunder into the building.
I don't look up. I figure that if it's Cade then he can just take us both out right here and put an end to all of it. He'd never leave Mia now he's got his hands on her, so if he's alone it means… a giant lump forms in my throat at even the thought of him harming her. Of stripping more of her fight away from her. Of breaking her more than he already has.
When feet appear before me and a bag clatters to the wooden floorboards beside me, I know it's help.
With a sigh of relief, I finally release the pressure I'm putting on Channing's gunshot wound and scoot back. "He's been shot in the stomach. It's been at least an hour, I think. He was talking b-but—" I blow out a breath trying to keep it together. "About ten minutes ago he lost consciousness."
