Page 42 of Witness Protection

Everything was a lie.

He didn’t know how to feel. What to think.

His pants pooled with blood, the sticky fluid travelling down his thigh.

Hawk had devoted his entire life to the family, to Vasily Morenov. He fucking worshiped the man. His only wish was to be his real son, flesh and blood. He wanted to belong so bad that he never questioned a thing. Never asked about his real name, his birth family, nothing. He’d put one hundred percent faith in Vasily.

He’d kept his distance from Sophia out of respect.

Duty.

If he’d known the sick truth, he would have told her he loved her. Everything would be different. He’d pushed her away, turned her down again and again.

Now she was in the arms of another man.

“Live by the gun, die by the gun,” he muttered.

Hawk lifted his gun, holding it to his head.

What was the point anymore?

He pulled the trigger.

****

“No! Go back!” Sophia kept up the hysterics as they drove down the dark, deserted highway. Her face was red and stained with tears. She slapped the glass of the passenger window again and again.

“Stop it,” Cayden warned. “He’s the one who told me to take you away. He wants you safe.”

“They’ll kill him! You can’t leave him there.”

“He knows what he’s doing.”

She began to panic, hyperventilating, blood dripping down her arm. He never realized just how much she cared about Hawk.

No one had ever thrown a fit on his account.

Cayden reached into the center console with his right hand as he steered with the other. He grabbed a needle, pulled the cap off with his teeth, then plunged it in into Sophia’s neck.

“Sorry, baby. It’s for your own good.”

Within seconds, she slumped to the side, her body heavy. He adjusted her into a comfortable position, then focused on driving.

There was no way Hawk was getting out of there alive. They’d been outgunned and outnumbered. That meant Sophia was his responsibility now. He’d never asked for this, but he’d be lying if he said he wanted no part of it.

Women never interested him. The whole commitment thing sickened him, so he didn’t allow himself to get attached or emotionally involved. After living through as much dysfunction as he had, he wanted no part of family life.

Sophia, she was everything. She’d infiltrated his head, his thoughts, his desires. What was it about her that he couldn’t shake? The fact he’d made her an orphan? Or something simpler, like the freckles across her nose or the fullness of her lips?

He needed to get them set up for the night. Even with Hawk down, Antonio Baretti would still be on the hunt for him. And the bounty on Sophia was alive and well.

No place was safe.

Cayden drove a couple hours outside of the city. He had a trailer on three acres. Another of his many hideouts. There was no lighting, and everything was overgrown, the weeds attempting to devour the silver bullet.

He cut the engine, the drone of crickets trying to soothe him, but that wasn’t possible tonight. After getting what he needed from the trunk and unlocking the front door to the trailer, he came back and scooped up Sophia into his arms. He’d only given her half a vial, so she’d be coming out of her sleep within the hour. He settled her on the queen bed in the back bedroom and closed the door.

He crashed on the sofa and raked his fingers into his hair as he leaned his head back. He’d lost so much in the past couple months—Frank and his family, his apartment, his cat, his factory hideout, and maybe his heart. This was bullshit. When would it end?

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