Page 70 of If You Go
“Didn’t I tell you, Brenden?” Gavin’s voice rings, manic. “She always comes back!”
He’s feral, wild-eyed, blood smeared across his jaw and white shirt.
“Corver,” I hiss under my breath into the comms, forcing breath through my teeth as we’re pushed closer to Gavin. Stefan’s beside me now. “We could use some extra help.”
“Yeah,” he answers. “On it. Hold on.”
“Hold on?” My voice cracks. “We’re outnumbered and surrounded.”
Static hums. Then Corver again: “Three minutes. Trust me.”
Three minutes feels like a lifetime.
“Copy,” I grind out, but my focus stays locked on Gavin’s face.
“Hello, Stefan.” Gavin turns from me, voice oily. “Did you like the video I sent–the one with the Russians? Should I fetch Surry now, so we can put this union back on track? She’s been performing her wifely duties so well since she came back.”
His eyes cut to me, waiting for a reaction. I grit my teeth, close my eyes for one second–and pain explodes across my skull.
“No? OKAY THEN!”
Stars burst behind my eyelids as the barrel of his gun cracks into my temple. Warm blood spills down my cheek, soaking the cotton under my vest.
“Tie him up!”
I drop to my knees, vision strobing. My stomach flips. Voices blur together, meaningless noise.
Slowly, sight crawls back. Gavin’s face hovers above me, the gun barrel inches from my left eye.
This is it.
I whisper,“I’m sorry,”to no one and everyone–to Surry, to her father, to Sam, to my brothers. For not keeping my promise. For being too slow.
Josh is beside me, also on his knees, eyes wide—not on the men in front of him, but past me.
I turn my head. And there–through the haze–she’s walking toward us. Surry.
Something dangles from her waistband; her arms cross awkwardly in front of her.
“Gavin, that’s enough,” she says, voice calm, steady, lethal. She stops ten feet away.
She’s talking to him but I can’t make out the words, just the rhythm, sharp and cutting. Gavin laughs, spreading his arms like he’s welcoming her home.
“Surry—” I rasp, but she doesn’t look at me. She takes a single step back, raises her hands.
“Iontas!” (Surprise!)
Fuck, the code word. How does sh–
She throws something small–metal flashing as it spins–and instinct takes over. I reach for my mask, but my hands are useless, trembling.
How the fuck did she get a bomb?
By the time I look back, she’s already masked, sprinting at Gavin, pistol in hand.
The detonation isn’t loud. But the world explodes anyway.
Light. Smoke. A wave of pressure that swallows everything.
