Page 89 of Savage Beauty

The gun clatters to the floor.

My blade does too.

One hand clutches her throat.

Blood oozes between her fingers.

Her body remains erect. She wobbles. Her knees give. And she falls.

I told her I don’t miss.

I lower my hands from my ears. It’s quiet, but there’s a distinct burning smell in the air. Reaching into my bag, I remove a third blade and step closer to her, blade ready.

“Tell me, who else is involved?”

Her mouth opens. Blood spills along the white tile near my sandals.

She reaches for me, and her bloody hand clutches my shirt.

“Just tell me. Is it everyone?”

Am I the only one who didn’t know? That can’t be possible.

Her eyes close. Her chest rises and falls. Blood spreads.

I need to get out of here. But first, I return the unused blades to my bag, and reclaim my blade from her throat and wipe it clean.

CHAPTER29

Max

Erik’s name flashes on my phone screen as I cross the tarmac.

“Erik.” The one-word greeting is a tip-off to my mood. This whole mess is confusing as fuck.

“You boarded yet?”

“About to.” A pilot in navy slacks and a white, button-down, short-sleeve shirt stands at the top of the stairs. He’s holding a water bottle and watching an incoming jet.

“I’ve got a photo I’m going to text you. It’s a frame from the security cameras.”

I pause at the base of the stairs and use my hand to shield the sun from the screen. A photo shows Sloane exiting the front entrance of Origins Laboratories.

“She’s going back to work there. Didn’t I tell you?” I ascend the four steps to the entrance of the jet. Although, she agreed to wait. Matteo probably isn’t in place yet. But, why would I expect her to heed potential risks?

“Look at that photo again. There’s blood on her shirt. She arrived at 3:25. She exited at 3:52.”

“She probably went to deliver a letter.” The letter she said she’d sit on for a beat. “They haven’t officially hired her back yet.”

“Did you not hear me when I said there’s blood on her shirt? That wasn’t there when she arrived.”

The pilot steps back, patiently holding out a hand for me to shake. I ignore him and focus on the still once again. Zoom in. Damn. It’s definitely blood. It almost looks like she wiped blood off on herself.

What the hell?

I’m back down the steps at a run. I pop my earbuds in and switch the reception over. “Can you handle canceling the flight? I’m going to find her.”

My bags are on a wheeled luggage trolley. I unzip the short duffel that holds my handguns, grab my Glock, load it, and tuck it into the back of my pants.

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