Page 37 of Confession
“What the fuck!” I shove him hard. He’s rocked slightly but doesn’t let go. His dark eyes bore into me. His lip curls back from his teeth.
“You did that on purpose. Jamming my door.”
“I hardly had time to plan that.”
“Bullshit.”
It is bullshit, but I don’t admit it. I just glare back at him. He got what he deserved for refusing to get out of the Jeep.
All this shit is my responsibility. All this mess is my fault. It’s on me to fix it.
Roman shoves back from me and goes stalking off.
“Stay close!” I call after him, but he doesn’t reply. “Fucker,” I mutter and return to the barn.
“This is the only one alive,” Joe informs me, nodding to the man I subdued in the stall. He’s kneeling on the dirt floor with Joe’s gun at his head.
I pull my hunting knife from the back of my belt. “Then he’s the one who’s going to tell me how the hell he targeted my shipment.”
THIRTEEN
Vitali
“Ah, shit,” I mutter as I drive into the underground garage and see Quinn in his jeans and t-shirt, arms crossed and looking pissed as hell, waiting beside the Jeep’s parking spot.
In the passenger seat, Roman huffs. I glance at him, but he pretends I don’t exist. He’s been doing that ever since he stalked off outside the barn. He didn’t look at me once through the hours of cleanup or while dealing with shit at the transfer station. It’s been a long fucking day.
I pull into the parking spot. “Let Lucas clean up your hands.”
Roman’s bruised and abraded fingers twitch in his lap. After stalking off, he came back from the woods like that. I hope he didn’t break anything. I got my bullet graze stitched by Isaac, my off-the-books doctor, but Roman wouldn’t let Isaac look at his hands. It’s hard for him to be touched by anyone but Lucas.
Roman takes a deep breath but still doesn’t look at me. He opens his door and gets out. As I get out too, inches from Quinn because he’s fucking hovering, Roman nods slightly to Quinn. Quinn’s eyes flick to Roman, taking in the nod, but he doesn’t react. He’s too pissed.
I close the Jeep’s door and pocket my keys. I set my chest harness and guns on the hood, then Quinn and I stand there listening to Roman’s boots tromping toward the exit. Quinn watches my brother go then turns his furious gaze on me. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him this angry. He’s so angry that even when Roman’s gone, it takes him a second to speak.
Then: “What the fuck were you thinking?”
I’m not in the mood for this. “I take it Joe called you to bitch about my decisions.”
“Your decis—” Quinn cuts himself off, too furious to even finish. Veins bulge in his neck. “What you did was fucking stupid.”
“No, actually, it wasn’t. And not only did it work, it was my decision to make—whether you like that or not.”
“What the fuck is this?” he demands, pointing at an indentation on the Jeep where a bullet struck. “And fuckingthis?” He grabs my elbow, roughly rotating my arm to display the bandage.
I yank my arm away. “Jesus, Quinn—”
“You could’ve been killed!”
“Well, now you know how I felt that night at the strip club when you weren’t behind me like you were supposed to be!”
“So this was, what? Some kind of stupid ass payback?”
“No, Quinn, this was me making a decision that I’m allowed to make because I’m in charge and you’re not.”
“It ismyjob to do shit like this. I was standing right fucking there while you talked to Joe, and you deliberately concealed the situation from me!”
“Again, my decision—”
