I was on my own—facing off with a madman who would stop at nothing to kill me.
My only shot in hell was making it to the van and praying his man had left the keys in the ignition.
If not…
I took a step forward only to have pain lance its way up my leg.
I looked down and realized I’d been hit when Dev’s pistol fired. A river of blood poured from the wound, trickling down my calf and into my boot. I became light-headed.
“Where’s your boyfriend now, you fuckin’ cunt?” Dev taunted, rising from the ground with a pistol he’d found by the body of one of his men. “You think his name on your shoulder is gonna protect you?”
I hobbled toward the van, my hand to the wound on my leg. But my palm kept slipping off because of the blood.
The air smelled of gunpowder and death.
“You don’t think I knew this was gonna be a set up? Of course I knew.”
“Then why did you let my guy kill two of yours?” I asked, feeling faint.
“Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few for the many,” he stated. His eyes took on a deranged glint in the moonlight.
Spots marred my vision and my breathing was already labored as my heart tried to pump more blood and oxygen to the wound in my leg.
“You didn’t think I knew about your alliance with Flynn Campbell? Or your boys’ meeting with the Jackals. The Jackals would be idiots to pick the losing side in a drug war.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how he knew. But I realized it didn’t matter. He had been one step ahead of me and I was going to die for it.
“I know all, darlin’. I own this city.”
I reached the van and grabbed the door handle as Dev slowly approached from behind, not at all concerned that I was attempting to escape. The door was locked and my hand slid off the metal, leaving behind a bloody trail. I whimpered, even as I felt myself sinking to the ground.
As I rested against the wheel of the van, Dev crouched down to get into my face.
“I admire your balls.” He grinned. “For a woman. Still, you’re just a woman.”
He caressed the side of my face, almost tenderly, almost like we were lovers. Lovers entwined in blood.
My vision was hazy and I refused to let Dev’s face be the last thing I saw before I bled out. I focused on the warehouse behind him, a slight smile curving my lips when I saw the tendrils of smoke curling out from the warehouse.
“Guess you don’t know everything,” I wheezed.
Dev frowned and then looked over his shoulder, following my line of sight. “No,” he whispered, rising from the blood-soaked pavement beneath us.
He repeated the word over and over as he watched the warehouse of cocaine slowly become engulfed by fire.
“How? How did this happen?”
I wanted to tell him. I wanted to gloat. But I was having trouble staying awake. And just before I passed out, I swore I heard the faint rumblings of a motorcycle.
I was being lifted off the ground and pressed to a warm, solid chest. The cotton T-shirt smelled familiar. Like my favorite detergent—and Colt. I would’ve snuggled closer, but everything felt heavy. My head, my limbs, my entire body.
“Fuck.” The voice sounded very much like Colt’s. Which was impossible because Colt was in jail.
And I was dying.
Maybe it was an angel with Colt’s voice escorting my soul to heaven. My internal voice snorted at the thought. If anything, it was the devil shepherding my soul to hell. For the things I’d done. For the wrongs I’d committed. For the life I’d chosen.
I felt something cinch around my thigh.