Page 32 of Undying Resilience

I shake my head.

“Months of training,” Jordan snarls, “all wasted because you made him go soft. I knew he wasn’t cut out to work for me.”

Two of his men move into the room, and my stomach sinks.

“It wasn’t him,” I say again.

“I just told you, don’t lie to me!” Jordan shouts. Then he turns to his men. “Bring her outside.”

I manage a solid kick to one of their sides, but that’s all I can do before they’re grabbing me and dragging me downstairs. It’s freezing outside, especially since I’m barely clothed and my hair is still damp. The cold air stings my skin, and the bottoms of my feet instantly ache from the cold.

They shove me onto the snowy ground while Jordan yells to two men who’re circling the perimeter of the yard.

“Andrew! Get over here!”

My heart skips a beat as Andrew jogs toward us. Once he’s closer, he spots the blanket in Jordan’s hand, and his expression fades into one of worry and fear.

“Tell me, Andrew,” Jordan drawls, “what are rules for?”

“Uh... for—”

“To keep things in order,” Jordan shouts.

“Right. Sorry, sir.”

“You know what happens when things get out of order?”

Andrew shakes his head, gulping. His gaze flits to me for a split second before he looks back to Jordan.

“Everything goes wrong, that’s what. I had her in there with nothing to keep her warm for a reason! They need to know she was miserable. They need to suffer the way I have, knowing my brother was taken far too soon.”

“She had nothing to do with Tyler’s death,” Andrew argues.

That’s not exactly true.

“But her men did. And the best way to hurt them is to hurt her.”

Andrew hesitates, obviously uncomfortable. But then he sighs. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t,” Jordan says before drawing his gun.

“No,” I shout, lunging forward. His men pull me back with too much force, and I slip in the snow before they yank me upright again. “Don’t kill him. Please.”

Andrew’s eyes are wide. He backs away, shaking his head. “My little brother. He needs me. I’m the only family he’s got left.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before disobeying a direct order.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrew says. Tears spill onto his cheeks. “I promise I’ll do better. Just don’t take me away from him. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

“On your knees,” Jordan says, raising his gun.

Andrew hesitates, but then he does as he’s told. I close my eyes, fighting tears of my own. This can’t be happening. How could Jordan kill him over this? Over a fucking blanket?

“Open your eyes, Wren.”

I stare at the ground.

“Look at him!”

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