Page 98 of Darkest Retribution

“I don’t care if you have to hop, or crawl, or fucking drag yourself over. Get in, or I’m leaving you here.”

Whimpering, Landon begins to crawl, leaving a trail of blood behind him. I shut the back door, cringing at thecrunchof broken glass, before slipping into my car.

“Remember what I said,” David calls to me, but I barely hear him.

They have Rosie. After all of my careful planning, after everything I’ve done, they still got her.

I want to scream. To destroy something. To kill someone.

But I can’t. Landon’s gun may be sitting on the floor of my car, but if I kill David, I’ll never find Rosie. Hell, if he dies, his men might just kill her out of spite.

Which means there’s only one thing left for me to do.

. . .

When I get back, Dominic’s lights are still on. It’s odd, but I don’t care. I just need to get this over with.

I park in his driveway, shoulder my bag, and head to his front door. My bag feels too heavy, weighed down by Landon’s gun and what I have to do. But there’s no other way. Not if I want to see Rosie alive again.

Knocking on his door feels like a betrayal, but I do it anyway. When Dominic answers, he’s talking into his phone, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from widening with alarm when he takes me in.

For the first time, I look down at myself. Glass falls from my hair as I notice the blood spraying my pants.

“Felix, I have to go. Send me updates of the car’s location, and I’ll meet you there.” He hangs up, shoving his phone in his pocket. “What happened?”

Oh my god. I can’t do this.

Just stop thinking and get on with it, Jade. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.

“Jade.” Dominic runs his hand through my hair, shaking out some of the shattered glass. “I don’t have a lot of time. I need you to talk.”

“Your office,” I blurt.

“Fine. Quickly.” He ushers me into the room.

I point at his desk. “Sit.”

Thankfully, he listens, and I stand on the other side. He works in security. He may be the CEO now, but I know he has some experience in the field. For this to work, I’m going to need some type of barrier between us. I don’t trust myself to put up much of a fight if he tries to disarm me.

“Talk, Jade.”

I don’t do explanations. They take too much time, leave too much room for begging and bargaining. But everything has always been different with Dominic. He deserves to know why this is all happening.

It’s why I need the space between us—so I can talk without him trying to stop me.

My bag is already unzipped, so I reach inside, grabbing the gun.

Gripping it should be easy. My heartbeat should be steady. I’ve done this a thousand times—maybe more. It should be simple.

Yet it feels like I’m walking across a high wire, balance lost, with no net below to catch me.

“Jade,” Dominic says. His voice is steady, yet it does nothing to calm me like it normally does. “What’s going on?”

When I turn to face him, he freezes. His eyes drop to the gun in my hand for a split second before he holds my gaze.

“I want you to know that I don’t want to do this.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other, trying to soothe the ache forming in my stomach.

Why couldn’t this be simple? Why does it have to behim?

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