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By the time he came around the corner of the stage, the shooting behind him had quieted and Cole was rushing forward with his gundrawn.
Anastos was there, his back against the wall, blood leaking from his stomach. Two men were slumped over next to him, one bleeding from his head, the other from hischest.
An eerie smile played on Anastos’ lips. If Damian didn’t know better, he would have thought the other man was happy to seehim.
“You couldn’t protect her,” Anastos choked out, still smiling. “You couldn’t saveher.”
The words were like shards of glass in Damian’sskin.
“Maybe not,” Damian said. “But I can avengeher.”
Damian squeezed the trigger, emptying the magazine into Anastos’ body until he slumped over, blood spattering the wall behindhim.
“We clear?” Cole calledout.
“Clear,” Derek said behindthem.
Damian lowered his weapon and turned around, surveying the carnage around them. Derek was helping the mascara-stained dancer up from the floor and handing her his jacket to cover up when Locke sauntered into theroom.
“Figures,” he said, surveying the mayhem. “We pull a sting on a strip club, and all I got was an eyeful in the dressingroom.”
