Page 64 of Beautiful Dark Temptation

“You’re Tristan’s bastard son,” he hissedout.

That never got old. The dark patch spreadout throughout my body. A toxic thing needing release. “There arerules of engagement.”

“Your protection ends at the school’sproperty. Out here, anything’s game.”

Bruno was right. Our protection had ended atits boundaries, the reason the school worked so damn well.

“Killing us is still not productive, Bruno.You should know that.”

“I’m not going to kill him so long as I getwhat I came for.”

“And what is that?”

“The kid. Where’s the boy?”

I grinded my teeth. “There isn’t anyone elsehere, Bruno.”

Bruno looked to the cabin. “Tomás!” hecalled out. “Come out or I’m going to blow this fucker’s headoff!”

Henry shut his eyes. Tears made tracks downhis cheeks. The shit just got too real. I narrowed the gap betweenus making sure I was nimble. I couldn’t outrun a bullet.

When no one came out, I spread my hands. “Itold you. No one—”

“I’m here!” Tomás yelled out, hands in theair. He came out of the trees to my right, about five paces. Icould tackle his ass to the ground, punch him in the face and knockhis ass out. I didn’t. I fisted my hands instead.

My teeth grinded together to keep me fromtelling him he better survive this shit, or I was going to make himpay.

Tomás gave me a sideways glance but notenough for me to interpret what he planned to do.Please, lethim have a plan.Then I remembered how he gave himself upduring the scapegoat bullshit. He’d done it to protect the weaklingof the group. Charity. Because that’s what made him a good person.He had no plan. This was some Kamikaze shit. As if he meantnothing. Panic took over all rational thought. “Bruno, don’t dothis. I can pay you more.”

“Stop it,” Tomás hissed beside me.

“You do this,” I called out to Bruno, “and Iwill hunt you down and kill you.”

Bruno laughed. “Fuck, kid. I believe you.But your grandfather is a loyal bastard too. And right now, he’sholding all the cards.”

“He won’t be.”

Bruno waved Tomás over. “Come on, kid.”

Tomás kept walking. “Just trust me,” hewhispered as he passed me.

I didn’t trust him, but I stayed rooted inplace anyway. Tomás stopped twenty feet in front of Bruno andthat’s when I got a look at the gun tucked into his pants. I bitback every curse word that wanted to spew out. He wore joggers, thegun hanging precariously off the loose band. He was going to gethimself killed. My eyes lowered to the bow and arrows I’d tossedtoo far like an idiot. I wouldn’t be able to offer any type ofprotection. Not to save Tomás, but possibly to save Henry, theweakest link. It’s what Tomás would do, what he was doing.Sacrificing himself to save Henry.

“Let him go. I’m here,” Tomás said.

Everything else happened in jolted moments.Bruno shoved Henry forward. Henry fell on all fours sobbing butdidn’t move out of the way. At that same moment, Tomás slipped onthe snow, his arms pinwheeling. I broke eye contact and dove forthe bow and arrow. A shot rang out and my heart burst inside mychest. I came up on a roll, arrow already strung. Bruno on theground but Tomás on the ground too.

I ran, trying to keep my sights on Bruno—thethreat—while my heart slammed against my ribcage in terror. I’dnever felt so afraid before. I’d never lost someone I truly caredfor. I never had a reason to breathe, to live, to hope. In that onemoment, I knew I loved Tomás.

When I was sure Bruno wasn’t going to bemoving, I turned to Tomás, on his feet, gun trained on Bruno. Hishands shook, his face had gone pale and the haunted look in hiseyes almost shattered me.“You can tell a lot about a manwatching him kill,” my grandfather had told me. And he wasright. I knew Tomás Moya wasn’t like us, wasn’t like me. He wasgood, brave, and everything I couldn’t have.

“Hey,” I said softly. “It’s over.” I cuppedhis wrist and lowered his arm. He shoved the gun in my hand andsprinted inside the cabin. I was pretty sure he was going tovomit.

Henry remained sitting on the snow, his backagainst the truck.

I crouched in front of him. “Hey, look atme,” I said kindly. His brown eyes met mine. They weren’t the usualfocused ones I’d come to rely on. His eyes were glazed, almostspinning. A defense mechanism he learned when he was a kid toshield himself of the horrors around him. He’d once said it felt asif his brain spills out and there’s nothing there. I shook himgently. “Hey, come on, brother. You’re safe. We’re safe.” My wordsseemed to take some of the blankness away.

“It was my fault. I fucked up. Wren … Wrengot hurt.”

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