Page 257 of Bossy Hero

She launches into the solace of my open arms, and I hug her with all my might, whispering comforting words. Looking over her shoulder, I seek out Alan’s chest cam view.

Before I find his, I notice that we’ve got problems on other parts of the yacht.Dammit. That huge man from earlier is tussling with Aaron and Henderson. Another of the mafia’s henchmen joins in.

My attention is jerked back to Alan as Lenkov launches into a villain’s monologue. I block out everything except what he’s saying, clinging to every word the way Lettie clings to me.

Lenkov’s voice and the scathing look he gives Alan send chills up my spine. “No matter how many people you have around you. No matter how many you try to save from sad lives. You still want the one you never can have again. Because nothing can bring back dead brother.”

Oh, Alan.

This is it.Thisis the thing that haunts him. The thing he’s punished himself over for years. Or perhaps decades.

The chest cam’s frame moves in waves as if it’s being rocked. The sound of Alan’s heavy breathing tells me why.

Not done tormenting my love, the demon adds, “Poor crazy Daniel. Killed because big brother trusted wrong person. Like today, yes?”

No, no, no.

I want to run.

Not away from this nightmare. I don’t want to run and hide.

If I could, I’d runtoAlan.

I’d take him in my arms and tell him he’s not responsible for anyone else’s actions. And that even if he made mistakes, he’s still a good man. He’s still worthy of love.

There’s no way he intentionally did anything to cause his brother’s death. Just like he didn’t cause Lettie’s suffering. Or my gunshot.

The only people to blame are the perpetrators.

Just like Travis. And my father.

Not me, Tilly, Sammy, Drew, or Leo. Not my mother.

And there’s no damn way Alan’s responsible for this tragedy.

Lenkov points the gun. “Say hello to sweet Daniel for me.”

I hold my breath, every muscle in my body tensing.

From the corner of the screen, I catch sight of Alan raising a gun. “Say hello to Viktor for me.”

I flinch and release Lettie, covering my ears at the deafening pops of gunshots.

Three of them. Nearly simultaneously fired.

The camera doesn’t tip over or flash to the ceiling. Because Alan’s still on his feet.

However, Lenkov isnot. Neither is Patterson.

They were knocked over at virtually the same time, presumably by the force of the bullets. Lenkov falls onto his back while Patterson flails in the opposite direction, landing on his belly with a resounding thud.

Although I don’t know how fast a handgun can refire, I seriously doubt Alan shot fast enough to take them both out. Even if he were the fastest gunslinger in the world, it wouldn’t explain why Patterson fell in the opposite direction.

Alan spins around to look behind him, still holding his gun in front of him.

Standing a few feet away is someone else with a weapon. A petite woman with long, dark hair and sad eyes. She must have fired one of the three shots.

“Katia,” Alan announces in a hushed tone.

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