Page 98 of Brutal Ice

Beau took a step toward him. “This isn’t you. You’re in control. You always have?—”

“I’m not.” That was the problem. “I’m not in control. Not now. Not with her.” His hand dropped to his side where it fisted. “Do you know I was the one who wanted to use her? I wanted to make sure the killer was at that damn location. I went with her to meet Simone even though I knew it was a trap.” He sucked in a breath. “Violet crawled under this stupid garage door. It lowered behind her. She was in there with him. Glass separated us. Damn glass. I could see her. I could see him. I could see the knife he had.” And I could see me losing everything that mattered. “I had to bust my way in to her.”

“That would explain all the scratches I see on your hands.” Another gliding step from Beau. “You got to her. She’s okay, bro.”

“He came at her with his knife.” The image would not get out of his head. “She saved herself. I didn’t do it. I was behind the glass.”

“Royal…”

He lifted his hand to ward off his brother. Because there was more that had to be said. “Curran stopped me from putting a bullet in Micah Wright’s brain.”

Beau swore.

“Now he’s telling me that he doesn’t think Micah was the killer. That I was about to shoot the wrong guy.” His hand dropped. Then immediately fisted again. “Micah has a stab wound. Violet stabbed her attacker. Micah was at the scene. Micah was fucking Simone.”

“Why doesn’t Curran think Micah is the perp? Walk me through this. I’m playing catch-up since I’ve missed most of the game.”

“Because Curran says Simone called Micah, too. That she made arrangements for him to come out to that godforsaken station and get her. And because Micah doesn’t have marks from a taser on him.”

Beau’s brows rose.

“Violet tased her attacker,” Royal explained.

“Tased and stabbed? I’m impressed. Seems she’s as blood-thirsty as you are.”

Royal bounded toward him.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Now Beau put his hands in the air with his palms facing Royal. “Easy, slugger. I’m not the enemy here.”

“She’s not like me. She’s a million times better, and I should never have touched her.” He stared down at his hands. Both had fisted. “But I can’t seem to stop myself. I don’t have control with her.” A dangerous admission. He forced his gaze to rise and meet Beau’s. “I don’t have control.”

And wasn’t that what they had both always feared? That Royal would lose his control, and all of the darkness he kept chained inside would break free. “Curran is working both sides. Freaking in bed with a Fed named Teresa Duncan.”

“I warned you about getting too close with cops.” Beau shook his head. “People change, man. He’s not the boy from years ago.”

No, he was a detective out for blood. “Curran knows about Will Kelly.”

Beau’s expression hardened. “Just what, exactly, does he know?”

“He thinks I put a bullet in Will’s brain.” And he would not be wrong.

Beau glanced over his shoulder toward the closed study door, then back at Royal. “He had a fourteen-year-old runaway in that garage.”

Yes. And Beau had been the one to get her out of there. She’d been blindfolded. Terrified.

“He was going to shoot me in the back,” Beau rasped. “You stopped him. You saved my life.”

“I ended his, and I didn’t hesitate.”

“He would have killed me. Me and the girl. You fired first. That’s all. You fired first.”

“I fired. That’s what matters.” His hands were still fisted. “You watched me so closely after that because you were worried I’d do it again. That I wouldn’t just tie up the predators.”

“Royal…”

“I would have fired that gun at Micah even with Curran yelling at me to stop.” A stark truth. “But she screamed.”

Beau blinked.

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