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“I can’t. Not until you promise me to save Liv,” I added, and I raised my hands to appear submissive. “Promise me, goddamn it.”

I heard Liv weeping behind Saint. Her tears did me in, but they were no match for her escaping without another scratch. I’d do anything, say whatever it took to make him fire his weapon because I was fucking desperate.

“You got till the count of three.” Preston egged Saint on and started the countdown. “One…”

My heart hammered in my chest, heartbeats passed, and Saint kept his eye on the target. Locked on Preston and ready to avenge justice. I waited.

“Two…” Preston tilted his head.

“Fuck! Promise me!” I whisper-shouted.

Take the damn shot.

“I—” A gunshot rang out over Saint’s voice, and I grabbed my weapon.

Preston never made it to the count of one.

Thirty

Her Predator

Sin

Zane sidestepped into sight. Smoke clouded his gun. He had fired at Preston’s weapon, a clear as fuck shot. Sparks flew as he winced at his injured hand, but scurried for his gun. The asshole didn’t know when his fucking time was up. We had him surrounded, our guns all aimed at him, but I waited for my bestie to do the honors.

Saint cracked a blast right at Preston’s left shoulder and he fell to his knees. Pure agony took over his face, veins popped out, and I bet he suffered a severe headache. He panted; the sound was loud and spit flew out of his mouth. He was in a lot of pain, and I loved every second of his torment, but he didn’t deserve my full attention right now. Liv did. Preston’stime would come.

I turned around to find Liv cowered against the wall, clinging to the plaster full of bullet holes. Her eyes were closed. She was afraid to open them, scared to see who had suffered, and she was fragile after everything she had been through. All I wanted to do was fucking hold her, ease her pain, and never let her out of my sight again. I wanted to make every bad moment she had experienced in this hellhole fucking disappear, but I knew I couldn’t do that. She needed time. Space to rebuild, to grieve, and we’d be there to help her mend all the broken pieces. Her healing began right now.

Gently, with as much care as I could ever give to our obsession, I touched the arm she held over her head.

Liv flinched. “No, please.”

The sight broke my heart. No pain should’ve ever come to her, only hurt from us, but we didn’t find her in time. We had failed our girl, and we had a lifetime to fix our mistakes.

“Shh… Sweetheart. It’s me.” I reached for her again.

“Sin?” Liv whispered, lowering her defenses.

Liv let me take her arm, and it was there I saw a wound on her skin. A weeks old injury turning into a scar. She needed me to exact revenge full of carnage. I wanted to know who had fucking hurt her.

“Where did you get this from?” I brushed the jagged flesh and grit my teeth. “Who did this to you?”

Liv kept her gaze low, and it was hard to see those beautiful brown eyes I loved so damn much. All I wanted was to see her sass, her spitfire, but I only saw tears. Her eyelashes were wet, her cheeks crusty with dried dirt, and Saint gently brushed it all away. His touch caused her to glance up once, twice. She was unsure it was actually him until I saw a flame ignite in her stare, and she glanced from Saint to me. Liv blinked repeatedly, and her eyes locked on something in between us.

“Preston…” Liv pointed with hatred. “He did this to me, along with his fucking mutts.”

“Are you sure?” Saint asked as he grazed the cut on Liv’s bottom lip.

“Yes.” Liv trembled, her mouth vibrating.

Liv was in terrible shape. Thin, unbalanced, and in shambles.

I fucking hated seeing Liv damaged, bleeding, and barely hanging on to sanity. We were supposed to be the psychos, never her. She was the light.

Fuck.

Liv was every fucking thing we weren’t, and I despised seeing her flame burned out. I’d give anything for a flicker, to bask in her goddamn brightness, and to have her illuminate me.