Page 64 of Ruthless

“I have a family too. And someone shot at them.” A muscle jerks in my cheek as I think back to Kennedy’s face when she hunched down in the seat covered in glass.

“You don’t understand.” He hangs his head and sighs. “This goes deeper than you can imagine. These people have connections that can bury us both.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” My hands tighten around the remote until I feel the plastic crack from under the pressure. “Talk.”

“All right. All right. I’ll talk.” A string of drool runs out the side of his mouth as he forces his head up to meet my stare. “I set you up.” His eyes drift to Isaac. “Both of you. And it was a way to get a little bit of payback for your fuck up in Afghanistan.”

A muscle jerks in Isaac’s cheek at that revelation. “You made me look like a fucking traitor. But it’s been you all along.”

Wallace nods. “I hired Savage, knowing that he’d go bring you in. The plan was to turn you against each other and let the problem sort itself out. Then we could continue business as usual.”

“You piece of shit.” Isaac slams his fist into Wallace’s stomach. The Admiral winces as his body sways on the hooks. Blood trickles down his shoulders, but not one of us gives a fuck. “Cindy was innocent.”

“So was my daughter!” Wallace’s face reddens as he bares his teeth.

Silence swallows the room like a shroud of death at his comment. Neither Isaac nor I argue his point because he’s not wrong. She was an innocent, and the guilt has eaten me alive for the last eight years.

“You don’t understand.” Wallace’s voice hitches as he speaks. “He threatened to take my other daughter and sell her. I can’t lose her too.”

That gets my attention, and my focus is back on track. “Who the fuck is he?”

“I can’t tell you.” He shakes his head. “He’ll kill my family and make me watch.”

“You think we won’t kill you first?” Mercy isn’t an option, nor is it anything this fucker deserves.

“A name.” Isaac raises his fist, ready to slam it into his stomach.

Sensing he’s out of options, Wallace opens his mouth to speak but never gets the chance. The sound of the glass on the window shattering cuts him off.

“Gun!” Asher shouts and plasters himself against the wall and out of the line of fire. The rest of us duck behind the chaise lounge for cover and pull out our guns. He waits a few beats, and when there are no more shots, he creeps out the door to find the fucker.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Axel asks as he peeks his head around the side of the furniture.

“I don’t know.” A heaviness settles in my gut that someone found us, and we didn’t see them. “Go back up, Ash.”

“On it.” Axel does as I say and follows out the door behind our brother.

“Fuck!” Isaac leans over the opposite side of the lounge in Wallace’s direction and jumps to his feet with me on his heels.

Fuck is right. Wallace has a bullet hole dead center in the middle of his chest. Blood drips out the side of his mouth as he gasps for air.

“Who is he?” I have one last shot at finding out who the piece of shit we’re looking for, and I’ve come too far to lose now.

More blood pools out of his mouth, but he manages to choke out one word before the light leaves his eyes permanently and screws us completely.

“Lobo.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Kennedy

I’ve been sitting in the same spot for the last few hours on the couch next to Rory, watching reruns of Castle as I try to refrain from watching the clock. I don’t even know what episode we’re on because my mind is elsewhere. I haven’t even changed out of my pajamas. Kelsey is in her art room drawing, while Charlee is at her house taking care of Lily with Teegan keeping watch, so it’s just been the two of us.

Something explodes on the television, but I’m too caught up in my head to pay it any attention. I bite down on my thumbnail as my bare feet bounce up and down. Despite what I told Zane, sitting and waiting has never been my strength.

Rory places his hand on the top of my knee to stop me and gain my attention. “Everything will be fine, Ken.”

I drop my hand and sag back into the couch, letting my head fall back. “I hope so,” I say to the ceiling, so I don’t have to face him and let him see the concern I’m trying so hard to hide.

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