Page 45 of Hendrix

She gave a start before turning slowly to look at me.

I held my arms out. “Come here.”

Her eyes lowered. “I can’t. You’ve got blood on your hands.” She thrust her fingers through her hair, and I didn’t miss the tremor in them. Then, she dropped her arm back to her side, and her body began to shake.

My heart contracted painfully. “I know this is hard for you, baby, and I get he’s the father of your kid, but I had no choice, not after he hurt you. I know you think I’m a monster, but he would’ve gone after you if I allowed him to live. If keeping you safe means I gotta get blood on my hands, I’m good with it, even if you’re not.”

“I didn’t mean it metaphorically, Jamie,” she whispered in a shaky voice. “I meant, you’ve literally got Toni’s blood on your hands, and I don’t want any part of him near my baby. I don’t care that you killed him. He threatened me with worse when I asked for a divorce. If it came down to a choice between him and my son, there’d be no contest.”

“You’re shaking,” I pointed out. “You’re in shock.”

“I never realized there’d be so much blood,” she murmured. “It’s gory as hell. Of course I’m fucking shaking. It’s gross.” Her eyes met mine. “Can we go now?”

I jerked my chin in agreement and watched Breaker take Anna’s elbow and guide her toward the door.

“Boss.”

I turned toward the sound of Gambit’s voice. He stood with his head around the door leading to the garage. “There’s a fuck ton of cash in this safe as well as his papers,” he informed me. “Do we grab it?”

I thought for a minute.

We were setting the scene up to look like a local street gang had hit the Lis brothers for skimming. There was no way they’d leave cash behind. They’d take what they reckoned was owed.

“Take it,” I ordered. “We’ll give it to a Philly drug rehab facility.”

Gambit chuckled and disappeared back into the garage, calling out, “Prez says take the cash. We’re playin’ Robin Hood, taking from the rich and giving to the poor again.”

“Wasn’t that Batman and Robin?” Ice called out.

Gambit gave a snort. “Stop bein’ a nobhead. Batman fought the Joker and the Penguin. Never once saw him give a toss about poor people. He was rich as Midas.”

“Who?” Iceman inquired.

I tipped my head back and sighed.

Those two fuckers were yanking my chain while we were surrounded by dead men. The cops would be here any minute, so I needed to make sure we didn’t leave anything incriminating behind except for our bullets, which could never be traced back to us or our weapons, seeing as they’d be melted down within twenty-four hours. On top of that, Anna was going into shock, which was a problem at the best of times, even worse now that she was pregnant.

My heart jolted.

Anna ispregnant.

Fuck.

Shit, fuck, shit, shit, fuck.

Never in a million did I see that curveball being lobbed at my head, though maybe I should have because now I had all the facts, it was obvious why she was so desperate to leave and also explained why it had to happen so quickly.

Becoming a mom was everything she’d ever wanted, and there was no way it would’ve happened if she’d stayed with me. Anna was caring and nurturing. She took people under her wing and did all she could to help them—people like Layla and Tristan, who’d been cast out because of circumstance or just for being who they were. Anna deserved the chance to shower that care and attention on her own baby, which was another reason I gave her up.

Iceman was right. I did get what I asked for. Anna went out and lived her life with another man. She moved on while I stagnated and died a slow, painful, internal death without her. Antoni Lis was an asshole who abused her in every way he could, but at least he gave her something meaningful, which was more than I ever did.

Perched on my bike, atop that hill, and watching her come out of the church after marrying another man, I’d suddenly had the urge to ride down, accelerating as I went, and not stopping until I hit something at full force.

I’d been to places that God hadn’t touched in years. I’d slept in jungles while lying in shit, and on beaches, choking on sand and seawater. I’d trudged through icy mountains and dense forests, my face and body fucked up and bleeding from stray branches and the elements. I’d been chased through deserts and hidden in bogs while swallowing so much dirt and mud that I thought my lungs would collapse.

But I’d never felt more helpless than I did that day or more hopeless than I did the next.

And the crux of it all was that I could’ve stopped it.

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