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The small gun wavered in her hand. “Don’t move.”
Less than a foot separated us. I considered the distance between us. I could latch onto the gun, twist it down and away from me until her finger broke in the trigger, and grab her gun.
It would hurt her, but it’d likely save us both.
I did that, satisfied by my swift movements and training. Seconds later, I had the gun pointed to her face.
“Calm down, Monica. I’m with the FBI.”
Someone broke past the shadows with a Smith & Wesson pointed at Monica just as the words slipped past my lips. I spun the weapon to him, freezing when I caught sight of Bastian’s face.
He hid it well, but he was thunderstruck.
Bastian had been burned before, but I had a feeling I’d just eviscerated him. I opened my mouth to explain, but there wasn’t coming back from this.
I’d always be the girl he let into his heart against his every instinct only to betray him on the day of his uncle’s funeral.
We were destined to fail from the start, but it didn’t hurt any less.
Damian chose that moment to stride into the light with his gun drawn on Bastian.
I shifted my gun to him, trusting him less than I’d trust myself. Yet another weapon brushed the back of my head, and my pulse quickened as fear and borderline exasperation filled my throat.
I shifted a little, considering my options.
A light tut stopped me.
“Don’t bother.” Renata Vitali. I recognized her voice. “Don’t bother. I’ll shoot you, then your boyfriend.”
There are things you see when your life flashes before your eyes.
I saw the empty one-bedroom apartment that wasn’t even mine.
I saw my cleared-out cubicle at the local FBI field office.
I saw my funeral, the five or so people who still knew I existed scattered around the graveyard grass, not a tear in sight.
What I didn’t see was any of my family’s faces.
I saw Tessie’s, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks, screaming my name.
And I saw Bastian, his eyes thunderstruck and the breath stolen from his lungs, whether at my betrayal or the impending loss of my life, I didn’t know.
And that struck me the most.
Why did that sting so bad?
Damian lowered his weapon, the trust in that movement shocking me. “Ren…”
Monica fled as soon as Damian’s weapon lowered, and Bastian started after her, but I shook my head. “Don’t. She has an ankle bracelet. What she knows, I can… I can figure out a way to explain to my boss.”
Bastian stopped.
He stayed.
Which meant, to some degree, he still trusted me.
It should have felt good, but it only hurt more.
