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Shawn’s body goes limp after a minute and I stand, leaving the knife where it is for now.
“We have an hour between a tip being sent to the police and their arrival. Marcelles and Monahan will be shortly behind since this involves one of their own.” Carmelo catches up with me as I pull out my gun with the full magazine and walk toward the door. “She’s almost comatose and not going anywhere. Weapons are ready and with her fingerprints. Clean-up crew is staging the rest…let’s get them out, and fast.”
“Agreed.” I don’t waste another minute and kick the door in when I reach the entrance. Every gun beside me cocks, but it’s my bullet that dislodges when I find him over her body on the floor. It hits his side, causing him to scramble off and land on his back.
London’s eyes are wide and full of panic, yet behind that choking fear I see her relief when she spots me by the door. Without another conscious thought, she pushes herself off the floor and runs to me, jumping into my arms and holding tight. Every part of her wraps itself around me.
Tight, not a single inch of space is left between her body and mine.
Her entire form is shaking. Mumbling something that I can’t quite make out, but when I try to pull her back a bit, she refuses to move with a shake of her head.
“I’m here, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”
“Not until he’s dead.” Twirl’s voice comes through then, monotone and ice cold. “They have to die.”
“Alton Foster was never going to make it past the end of this week—”
“Now.” She shudders, a sob catching in her throat as she pulls back to look me in the eye. Those sweet lips I love tremble, tears rushing down her cheeks as I take in the bruise forming on her skin. How pale she is from the shock and trauma.
A million deaths wouldn’t be enough for this fucker.
“Tell me how I can make this right for you. Whatever it is, it’s done.” My men move around us, Carmelo and Javier sending London sad looks. Alton is picked up from the floor and forced to sit in a chair near a pole. My guess is that’s where he kept her. Tied her to by the broken skin of her wrist. “Seeing you like this is killing me, love.”
“He killed her, Malcolm. They fucking killed my parents.”
Motherfuck, he told her. “I know.”
“You did? When…why didn’t—”
“My investigator looked into their deaths, and the results of his findings were inside my email this morning. I’ll show you the time and date if you need me to, London.”
“I’m s-sorry, I—”
“Shhh, none of that. I’m not looking for an apology, and you’ve done nothing wrong.” Lowering her to the ground, I wait until she’s on steady feet and pull back. Force her eyes on mine with the tip of my finger. “Just tell me how I can make this right.”
She nods and squares her shoulders, coming to terms with whatever decision she’s made. “No one can, but you could lend me your gun.”
“My gun?”
“Yes.” Her eyes flick toward a groaning Alton, and that darkness I’ve seen glimpses of comes to the forefront. The tears stop for the moment, and her lip curls over her teeth in a snarl. The pain is there, but that need for retribution is growing by the second, and I understand it. Her. “Give it to me, Malcolm. No more questions.”
“As you wish.” I hand over my Eagle and watch as she gauges the weight. Admires its power.
Twirl looks at me then from under her long lashes, those beautiful blue orbs full of love and appreciation. “I love you.” That’s all she says, making her way toward her step sibling with slow and sure steps. She doesn’t pause or so much as blink. Her arm doesn’t shake when she raises it, nor does her finger twitch.
One pull. One bullet.
The kickback is stronger on this gun, but she manages to keep it steady somehow. Then again, the human body is capable of miracles when a person is determined.
At close range, she blows his skull in with no remorse. No tears. No screams.
Instead, she watches as his head flies back and the wall behind him is a work of art—eccentric splatters of blood and other matter.
He’s dead, and she’s safe.
One more to go after I adjust the crime scene. I’ll take what I need and leave a high—overdosing Brittany behind to take the fall for both murders.
“Are you ready, love?” I ask, coming to a stop behind London. She’s in our bathroom putting on a pair of diamond earrings I gave her for this occasion. The dinner downstairs is in her honor and with a very special guest.
