Page 77 of Beautifully Shattered
“Blake Moore,” he reads the name on his identification, taking out his phone and taking a picture of it.
“Never heard of him,” JD mutters, stepping up beside Ringo to stare down at the man.
“Hey, you alright?” Jols’ voice pulls my attention away from the men, and I nod, not entirely sure that I am.
“I kind of feel numb.”
Ringo shoves Blake’s wallet back into his pocket and turns to me, his eyes scanning over me from head to toe.
God, what must he see?
I can feel the blood coating my skin for the second time in the last eight hours.
He must think I’m a monster.
“Let’s get you back to the safe house.”
Myreaction is delayed, my head a mess of images, like freeze-framed horror movie reels, flicking past my eyes.
Blood.
Bone.
Brutality.
I can see my hands inflicting it, but I’m struggling to believe that was really me.
“Angel?” Ringo steps closer, and I nod, glancing over my shoulder to the road where the SUV is still on fire and I can hear gunfire in the distance.
“Is it over?” I ask, turning back to find him right in front of me now.
“For us, it is. Riggs called in reinforcements. There won’t be a Rebel left alive to come after us.”
I swallow hard, bobbing my head.
There’s been so much bloodshed. Too much.
All because of me.
It doesn’t make sense.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” JD mutters, and I catch the worry in his eyes as he takes in the cuts and bruises marking Jols’ face and neck.
I don’t say a word. What is there to say?
They’ve all suffered yet again because of me.
We walk out of the forest, and on the side of the road, I stop to bend down and wipe the blood off my helmet, using the thick patch of grass before fitting it back on.
We mount up in silence, riding off to leave the Marx team behind to clean up the mess, and ten minutes later, we’re pulling into the safe house on Redfield Lake.
By the time Ringo kills the engine and we’ve climbed off the bikes, my rage is back, hot and gnawing at me, my thoughts too dark to speak aloud.
Ripping off my helmet, I shove it into Ringo’s chest. “You should burn this. I killed two men with it.”
His brows shoot up, glancing at Jols for confirmation.
“They never stood a chance,” she says simply, and I turn away, heading up the steps of the cabin.
