Page 216 of Ruin My Life
O’Doyle swore on his life the Songbirds weren’t involved. Said all his people were accounted for. So this? This has to be the one we’ve been chasing—the one who killed Jennifer. Killed Anya.
They must’ve realized we were closing in.
They hacked King’s Eye—no doubt they could override an elevator key. But taking down Connor and Brie? That’s not a one-person job.
Unless they had help. Maybe they found another partner after Xander?
My jaw clenches as the elevator dings. All three of us raise our guns, aim fixed on the seam between the doors.
When they part, the apartment is dark. Too dark.
“Lee? Brie? Connor?” My voice cuts into the silence as we step out.
Chavez feels along the wall and finds the light switch. The overheads flicker on—
“Shit—Lee!”
He’s lying on the floor, a thick trail of blood smeared behind him from where he must’ve dragged himself across the kitchen. His shirt is soaked through, the colour of it almost black from the amount of blood he’s lost.
Monroe moves fast. First aid kit’s under the sink, and he’s on it before I even reach Lee’s side. He rips the bloodied shirt open and finds the bullet wound that’s torn through his back, stuffing it with gauze. Lee lets out a weak, garbled sound.
He’s still conscious. Still breathing. Barely.
I scan the room for more blood. For Brie.
That’s when I see the laptops—both of them destroyed. Shot straight through. Brie’s phone is on the ground nearby, its screen shattered like it was stomped on.
I’m trying to put it together.
Did someone break in? Wipe the evidence?
If so… where are Brie and Connor?
Why leave Lee alive and take the two of them?
“Damon,” Monroe calls out, drawing my attention. “We need to get him to a hospital.”
“We’ll take him to Dahlia. She should be on shift at the ER,” I say quickly, then turn to Chavez. “I need you to try Connor again. See if—”
“Con…” Lee wheezes.
I drop back down beside him as Monroe presses another layer of gauze into the wound, his movements quick but careful.
“Lee, do you remember what happened?” I ask, trying to keep my tone steady—calm—though every part of me is straining for answers.
“Con… has Brie.”
The breath that leaves me is tight, but relieved. “Okay. That’s good.” If she’s with Connor, that means she’s not alone. That she’s protected.
But then Lee shakes his head weakly. “No—ugh,” he groans as Monroe pulls the wrap tighter around his middle.
“Sorry,hermano,” Monroe mutters, tying it off.
“We’ll get you to Dahlia,” I tell him again. “She’ll take care of you. Once you’re stable, you can tell me—”
“No.” Lee’s hand clamps around my forearm, his grip weak but urgent. “It…wasCon.”
The words barely register at first.
