Page 13 of Oathbreaker

Winter. Gone. Winter is gone.

I rush out the door toward the scene of the wreck.

Leo has pulled the driver out of the car. Blood runs from the guy’s head, but he’s conscious.

I peer into the crushed vehicle.

The passenger hangs upside down against the seat belt, with his neck at a sharp angle.

“Who sent you?” Leo barks out. His voice is rough but steady.

“Fuck you,” the man spits. Leo kicks him in the side, and the driver groans, rolling over. He coughs up blood.

“I’m gonna put a bullet in your brain either way. Might as well tell the truth. A point in your favor when you meet God,” Leo says, his voice deceptively calm.

“You already know who sent me,” the man says with labored breathing.

I do know. I do fucking know.

A sheen of pain and resolute defiance glazes over the driver’s eyes. I’ve seen that look before in a man who’s about to die—in a man who knew his time was up but didn’t give a fuck anyway.

“Winter Vaughan. Where is she?” I must look deranged as I speak. With absent awareness, I notice a trickle of moisture rolling down the side of my face. A copper scent fills the air.

“Her?” The man smiles, baring his blood-coated teeth. “You’ll never find her again,” he says.

I shoot him right between the eyes.

In the shot’s reverberation. I am quiet.

Up. Down.

Goes my chest.

And every single part of my mind breaks.

Morris. Blair. Father.

Winter, Winter, Winter.

Gone.

In the darkness, my vision shrinks to a pinpoint—stops. Feeling ceases to register in my brain as my hands numb.

In the distance, Leo yells at me. He’s so far. So far away.

“Drop the gun, Hunter.”

Winter. Winter. I need to get to Winter.

What do I do? What do I do first?

“Drop the gun, Hunter,” Leo says. He’s closer now. Close. Grabbing my wrist. I look down. Bullets riddle the driver’s face and chest, transforming his body into a pockmarked monstrosity.

Did I do that?

With Leo’s hand on my wrist, I squeeze the trigger again.

Crack. One more shot.

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