Page 80 of The Company We Keep

Dust was up to his feet before anyone could stop him, before Carrow could even fully register what was happening.

And then he was gone. They heard the heavy front door shut behind him.

“That answers that question,” Herron said, gritting their teeth.

“Come on,” Carrow said. He could mull over that reality later. There was no time to even consider how deep the wound was that he felt in that moment — the realization that Dust was gone, had fled, would rather leave them to die than stand by his side and fight. There was no room in his head for those thoughts. “We’ll fall back to the armory and regroup.”

The voices were getting louder.

Herron was the first to stand, providing cover as the rest of The Company made their way from the kitchen to the hall. The last rooms — past Dust’s demolition lab, past Leta’s office — at least had armored doors. They could hole up momentarily and regroup in the armory, and from the adjoining tech lab, they could monitor the ground and see what they were up against in terms of reinforcements.

There wasno time to waste.

Dust could already hear men on the other side of the door by the time he made it to the ground floor. Rushing through the motions, almost working on autopilot, he found what he needed and set up everything he could find.

The second wave of cartel men were still trying to get through the big armored door into the garage — and from the sound of their firepower, the door wouldn’t hold them for long.

Dust made his way back to the elevator. He tapped the “45” button, praying that Wayles would be somewhere to take the call, to turn on the security screen.

The screen flickered to life. Dust’s breath caught in his throat. He saw his own image reflected in the monitor, covered in grime and blood. Dust noted with a deep sadness that he was still wearing the jacket the hotel had furnished. His life had been something completely different just an hour ago.

“Dust?” someone said through the speaker. It was Wayles.

“Can you take their helicopter? Can Leta fly it?”

“If we can get through them, I can damn well try,” Leta said, her voice odd and tinny through the elevator speaker.

“I’ll stop the ones on the ground. Just get yourselves out.”

“That’s suicide, goddamn it,” Carrow said, leaning down to the mic.

Dust stared into the monitor, jaw clenched. He looked immensely sad.

“It’ll buy you time,” he said finally. “You need to get going.”

“Dust —”

“I love you, Ansel. I’m sorry.”

There was the sound of a blast somewhere off screen and then the squeal of the garage door being pried open.

“Dust —”

They watched him exit the elevator.

“Fuck,” Carrow said. He balled his fists and sucked a deep breath. Itwouldbuy them time, and if it meant the rest of his family would survive, so be it. He owed them that.

He turned to the people gathered behind him — to the people he loved more than anything else on earth.

“Let’s go.”

Maybe it wasDust’s sacrifice that gave the team a renewed sense of confidence.

Maybe it was the gesture, the reality of what Dust had been all along, how deeply he had betrayed their trust, and the absolution gained through giving up everything.

Redemption. Maybe he’d found redemption in their eyes, Carrow thought.

But together they blew through the armory, slapping on padded vests and loading up with every weapon they could carry. Leta hurried to patch up Vashvi’s wounds.

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