Page 85 of You Don’t Kiss Your Brother's Best Friends

“I cut him loose,” Andre said matter-of-factly. “He’s halfway to Mykonos, by now. Unless whatever’s left of Foley’s men get to the dock first.”

Roman tried covering his bitter disappointment with a sneer of contempt. But I caught that one too.

“Fine then,” he spat. “Nothing wrong with tying up loose ends one by one.”

My heart was pounding as he nodded at Morris.

This is it.

I was strangely calm as Morris racked the shotgun with an up and down motion. Maybe it hadn’t hit me yet. Maybe I refused to believe what was about to happen.

This is how you go out.

Morris stepped forward. Swinging his arm in a smooth arc, he handed the shotgun to Bishop…

Bishop?

I couldn’t comprehend at first. Not until Bishop nodded at Morris, then leveled the shotgun on Roman. For a long moment, everyone remained utterly frozen. Then Morris snapped his fingers, and everyone in the ballroom turned their weapons on the one in the middle.

Roman’s eternally smug look vanished in a heartbeat. It was replaced by a split-second of bewilderment, and then, vengeful anger.

“So it’s like this?” he snarled.

In the ensuing silence, his eyes scanned the circle. They shifted from man to man, looking for solace, searching for any small semblance of what could be considered an ally. But there was none.

“I’m afraid it’s exactly like this,” said Morris, solemnly.

Roman Wynter grimaced, and then spat on the floor. “You traitorous piece of shit.”

But Morris only shook his head. “We’ve had it with your bullshit chaos,” he went on, completely ignoring the mercenary captain. “You’ve driven Blight into the ground, destroyed any integrity it once had. Everything you’ve done has been self-serving. Especially the part where you divided us, kept us fragmented. All so you could more easily maintain control.”

Roman continued staring down his former men. A few of them looked at the floor, still intimidated by their ruthless ex-boss. But most of them returned his spiteful gaze with an icy stare of their own.

“I gave you everything!” he growled. “I took a handful of half-assed soldiers and—”

“You did nothing of the sort,” Morris quickly cut him off. Crossing his tattooed arms, he stared back at him coldly. “And you have a lot more to answer for than you think.”

With that, Bishop took three steps forward. Still clutching the shotgun, he stood toe to toe with the mercenary captain.

“Do you know who I am?”

Roman stood up a little straighter and snorted. “You’re the fucking kitchen staff.”

“Yeah, sure. And what about him?”

He pointed, and Andre broke the circle. He moved to join Bishop, until the two of them stood side by side.

Roman looked them both over and smiled. “No fucking idea,” he scoffed.

“Do you remember Tafilah?”

Long seconds of silence ticked by. The mercenary’s face changed.

“Thatclusterfuck?” he finally sneered.

“That clusterfuck,” said Andre.

“That clusterfuckyoucreated,” added Bishop.

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