Page 85 of Any Means Necessary

“Security?”

“Three on the ship, four on the ground who move the girls. Semi-automatic weapons and vests.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, that’s it. I swear on my life.”

“That doesn’t mean much, Jimmy.” The light is fading from Jimmy’s eyes as his breathing becomes more labored. More than likely, the electricity is causing organ failure from internal tissue burns. Callum’s piercing eyes turn to land on me, his hand running over his impeccable beard.

“I’ll let you decide what happens now, Dewdrop.” My breath gets caught in my chest in surprise. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulls out his phone to extend to me. “Let Jimmy meet his fate, or call for help.”

This isn’t the type of decision I’ve ever had to make. The weight of someone’s life in my hands is heavier than I ever thought possible. A few months ago my hand would’ve reached for that phone in a heartbeat—do no harm and all that. But since being in New York I’ve seen some shit, and my eyes have been opened to the truth people keep hidden behind business suits and closed doors. Nothing is as black and white as it seems.

This is a human life, but not everyone deserves to be saved.

My gaze travels from the phone, up Callum’s arm to meet his eyes. I’m sure he can see my thoughts warring with each other. He’s probably expecting me to grab the phone and call for help. It’s what I should do. Finally, I step forward.

Stepping past the offered phone, I walk the few steps to stand in front of the vile man responsible for so much pain and suffering. The pleading on his face is long gone, replaced by dark contempt. His eyes are empty, even as he fights to keep them open.

“You fucking bitch.” He struggles to get the words out, and there’s no mistaking the disdain in his feeble voice. His breaths are becoming shorter and heavier, a look of agony permanently etched on his face. The organs in his body are shutting down one by one after being burnt to a crisp. It’s an excruciating process, but not a hard one to watch. Not with him.

“This is for every little girl who had their life ruined because of you,” I say. “You don’t deserve peace, and the world will be much better off without you. Including your daughter.”

It doesn’t take long for Jimmy to lose the ability to speak, his mouth gaping open and shut like he’s drowning. Seconds stretch into minutes. I stand over him, watching as the world is rid of a monster. Andie Brentwood’s face flashes through my mind with her curly blonde hair, wide brown eyes lit with pain, and two missing front teeth. This is for her, and every other innocent life destroyed by monsters like Jimmy and Carl Suco. They were worth saving.

I’ve been witness to so much violence and devastation at the hands of selfishness, and all I could do was clean up the aftermath. I’ve had to patch up women and children, only to send them home to their abusers. Back then my hands were tied by protocol and medical laws—this time I can do something about it. I’m no one’s savior, but I can be this man’s karma.

I have no delusions that I’m fighting for the greater good or some bullshit like that. I know how twisted it is to hold a man’s life in my hands and choose to let him die. Just the idea should make me sick. Honestly, I’m expecting the guilt and devastation to hit any minute, to suddenly have a ‘what have I done?’ moment. But the remorse never comes.

When Jimmy’s breathing finally stops and his head falls forward, his half-lidded eyes lifeless, an overwhelming sense of satisfaction washes over me. It settles deep into my bones until it’s part of who I am. Pressing my fingers against his neck, I double check that there’s no pulse. “He’s dead.”

Good fucking riddance.

“Lexie.” At some point Callum moved to stand beside me, so close my arm brushes his when I turn to look up at him. He’s staring at me like I might break—something I can’t blame him for. I wasn’t exactly sure how I would handle it either. So far all I feel is relieved. Jimmy brought this upon himself.

“Do you need help disposing of the body?” The words leave my lips before I can think twice about them, and a flicker of concern crosses Callum’s face. Or was it confusion? Both are justified, I guess.

“No.” It’s Roscoe who responds first. “You don’t need to touch any of this.”

“Okay,” I say, pulling my eyes from Callum to glance at the enforcer. His expression is grave as he regards me. It’s for the best, honestly. The idea of getting rid of a body is gross, I don’t know why I even offered. I got caught in the moment.

“Come on, Dewdrop. Let’s get you out of here,” Callum says deeply, reaching for my hand—his strong fingers linking with mine. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me as I walk out the door without a glance back at the body.

At the man I let die.

Chapter Thirty-One: Lexie

“I’m fine, Callum,” I say finally after feeling his eyes on me for the millionth time since we left the the garage. I turn to face him, and sure enough, I find his eyes trained on me. “I’m not going to break down.”

“You watched a man die,” he states like I wasn’t there too. “I’d be an idiot not to keep an eye on you after something like that.”

“I’ve watched a lot of people die. And you’re not just keeping an eye on me, you’re staring,” I point out.

“This is different.” As unnecessary as it is, his concern warms my heart. With the way he’s been looking at me, I can’t tell if it’s just concern he’s feeling. Does he regret leaving the choice up to me? Maybe he thinks I made the wrong decision. Either way, there’s no turning back.

What’s done is done.

“His decisions led him there, he got what he deserved. We have other things to worry about,” I say, quoting his own words back at him. The intensity in his gaze doesn’t relent, and I feel myself softening. “Seriously, Callum. I’m okay, and I’ll tell you if that changes. I promise.” I’m being sincere. Besides, if I do start to have a meltdown he’ll be able to read it all over my face the moment it happens.

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