Page 84 of Brother's Keeper

It was more than a lot. It was everything. And it was gone.

I felt sick all over again, sucking air in a desperate effort to settle my roiling stomach.

“Fitch, it was an accident.” Holland protested. “I couldn’t have known—”

“You’re out of your depth, Investigator,” I seethed. “I don’t want you here, and I don’t need your help. I never did.” Holland reeled as I glowered at her. My nostrils flared through a snorted breath. “Now, gobefore I hurt more than your goddamned feelings.”

She stood, looking from me to Donovan to Ripley and back again, arguing without words.

“Holl…?” Vesper prompted, struggling under Tobin’s weight. “We need to get Toby to the Capitol. Soon.”

“Not without them,” Holland replied. Her features softened as she inched toward me once more. “Fitch, do you want to carry Donnie? I think I can get…” Her hand extended toward Ripley, and I targeted her with a repelling thought.

There was force to the blow, and it slammed into her, staggering her backward. She doubled over, holding her stomach.

“Holland, we can’t fight him.” Desperation edged into Vesper’s voice. “He’ll kick our asses.”

Finally, someone was talking some sense.

Holland steadied herself, then gave me a fleeting, wounded glance. “What about my dad?”

I huffed a bitter laugh. “That’s a hell of a thing to ask me right now.”

“Do you blame me?” Holland asked.

For asking? Or for killing my brother?

“Why shouldn’t I?” I replied.

Her features pinched. “Please, don’t hurt him.”

A snarling grin curved my lips. “I don’t know, Holland, maybe you need to give a little.”

Quick as a blink, she drew her sidearm from her waist holster and leveled it at me.

“Holland!” Vesper yelped, but the lead investigator didn’t back down.

“Tell me where he is,” Holland said. It must have taken every shred of her composure to sound so severe.

I knelt, half-collapsed on the pavement, hot with anger, cold with chill, and numb from the waist down. Donovan’s body had gone tepid in my arms, unmoving for the longest time. I wanted to join him wherever he’d gone, wanted to swallow the bullet Holland had chambered and leave this place forever. Death was the kindest thing the investigator could have offered me.

A morbid thought targeted the barrel of the pistol and raised it until the sight sat between my eyes. “Go ahead,” I said in a soft voice. “Make it quick.”

Her lips fell apart, and her finger curled back from the trigger.

“Can’t even kill someone right,” I sneered. “Little wonder you investigators are a dying breed.”

A white panel van rolled into view, the beams of its headlights bouncing across our sorry scene. Felix must have given up waiting and brought the getaway vehicle curbside.

Vesper shifted against Tobin’s slumped body, clearly struggling with the dead weight. “Holland, we have to go.”

The pistol hovered in the air between us until Holland holstered it and sighed. “Fitch…” She swallowed. “I am so deeply sorry. Please… don’t do anything rash.”

Turning, she joined Vesper and the two of them hobbled Tobin toward the waiting van. I watched as Felix bounded out and around the side of the car to tug the sliding door open and usher the other three inside.

Putting Donovan in the trunk was the hardest part. Physically. Emotionally. I stood with the lid hinged open for what felt like an age, apologizing, then finally closed him inside.

Ripley slouched in the passenger seat, in and out of consciousness as we made our way across town. The cruel collar had been removed, left on the ground beside Jax’s corpse, but the damage remained. I tried not to stare, but the grievous wounds dug into his chin and chest made me wonder if he wouldn’t have fared better in the Capitol healers’ care.

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