Page 134 of Wilde and Deadly

“I had to pick a side.” His gaze flicked briefly to Davey, to Cade, to Dominic. Then, back to Sullivan. “And you weren’t on it.”

Sullivan flinched. Barely. Just a fraction of a movement, but Brody saw it and laughed. Low. Rough. A little breathless from the fight but still simmering with something ugly underneath.

“Christ, you still don’t get it, do you?”

Sullivan’s hands shook. “You—” His voice caught. He swallowed hard. “You betrayed us.”

Brody’s smile widened, but his eyes were flat, empty. “Yeah.”

“Our friends. Our team.Me.For what? Money?”

Brody barked a laugh. “That’s the excuse, isn’t it?” He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and tilted his head. “But, really, I just stopped pretending I care.” He leaned in, voice low enough that only Sullivan would be able to hear it if not for their open comm line. “You were always the golden boy, Sully. The one everyone respected. The one everyone trusted. Didn’t matter what I did. Didn’t matter how hard I tried. You were always the first choice. Mom’s. Even our fucking dad’s. Everyone’s.”

Sullivan inhaled like the words had cut deeper than any knife.

Brody laughed again, but this time, it wasn’t sharp or cruel. This time, it sounded almost… broken. Like he hated himself for meaning it. “I tried to be charming, funny, likable, but I was always just… there. In your shadow.”

Sullivan’s grip loosened. Confusion and hurt warred across his face as he backed up a step. “That’s not?—”

“Don’t.” Brody’s voice hardened again, the vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. “Don’t try to tell me it wasn’t true. We both know it was.” He fumbled something out of his pocket.

The detonator.

The air froze in Davey’s lungs as Brody looked right at him and grinned. “But at least now I’ll have their fear.”

Dom lunged, going straight for Brody’s wrist. His fingers locked around the detonator, yanking it away in one clean, fluid motion.

Brody’s eyes widened—the first time his composure cracked. Then he moved. Not to throw a desperate punch. Not to escape. Instead, he went straight for Dom’s sidearm in a clean, calculated play for the kill.

Sullivan saw it, too, raised his weapon, and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked through the night like a thunderclap.

Brody jerked. His feet slipped against the slick grating. For a second, he hung there, his weight tilting toward the edge, his hands reaching for nothing?—

Then he was gone.

Falling.

His body hit the water below with a sickening splash, the darkness swallowing him whole.

Silence.

The four of them stood frozen, staring over the railing, waiting… but nothing broke the surface.

No movement.

No body.

Davey exhaled sharply, chest heaving, his hands tight on his rifle, but his mind was already somewhere else.

Rowan.

His fingers flew to his earpiece. “Hellcat, talk to me.”

Nothing.

“Rowan. Status.”

Still nothing.

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