My legs wobbled abruptly, and not because of the healing wound. I sank down behind the car, willing my breaths to even out.
Kaige dropped down next to me, his gaze concerned. He grasped my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“He’s here because of me,” I said. Another wave of gunfire nearly drowned out my voice. I couldn’t tell how much was ours and how much from the Storm’s men.
Kaige’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Xavier. He came here because he wanted revenge on me and my dad. He won’t leave because he hasn’t gotten it, and that’s all he cares about. I’m responsible for this mess.”
“That’s not true.”
“He loved my mother, and my dad killed her.” I shook my head. “That was the beginning of the end, even if I had no idea at the time.”
Kaige’s grip on me tightened. “Do you see what Xavier’s doing now? This isn’t about you—it’s about him being fucking insane. Besides, you’re not responsible for what your father did. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Maybe I should have figured things out sooner. Maybe I could have made a difference then.”
“You still can.” He gave me a little shake. When I looked up at him, his brown eyes were unusually serious. “Your dad is the only one to blame for his own actions, and the same with Xavier. Any way they try to pin this shit on you is just them looking for an excuse for what they want to do anyway. If what Xavier is doing was about love, it wouldn’t end with all this violence. I know that much about love. I would move worlds to be with you, but if you asked me, I would let you go.”
Something about Kaige’s words sank into the place where my chest had started to constrict. My lungs loosened, letting in more air again.
I wasn’t trapped by Xavier or anyone else, not if I didn’t let myself be. I could still stop this horror—without losing my life in the process.
“We always have your back. Always,” Kaige added.
“I know,” I murmured, squeezing his hand. Then I pushed myself up, filled with a renewed sense of determination. I wasn’t the one to start the war, but I would end it.
Our men had been spreading out along the street, trying to get closer to Xavier while he continued to take shots at them. The other Storm men were still firing away too. I added my own bullets to the fray—and then I saw one of the Storm’s men take off down the street with a bundle of what looked like dynamite in his arms.
Shit. Did they have more explosives? How much else would they destroy if they got their way?
I didn’t think any more than that—my legs were already in motion. Ignoring the throbbing of my wound, I threw myself after the man.
I shot at him as well as I could, but it was even harder with both of us in motion. One bullet dinged off a lamppost, and another embedded itself in a wall.
The man scrambled down an alley on the other side of the street, and I ran after him, gritting my teeth. The pain in my leg was slowing me down. As I hustled after him, a limp came into my gait. But I had to get to him before he blew up somebody’s house and livelihood—and maybe a whole lot of people too.
The alley connected to a lane that ran down the length of the block between the streets. I veered around the corner and spotted the Storm lackey several buildings ahead of me. I took another shot and raced after him as fast as I could push my legs to go.
I was just passing one of the side alleys when an immense figure charged out of it, straight at me.
I was flinging myself backward out of the way before I even registered Xavier’s face. My body instinctively hurled me toward the nearest passage—but when I spun around to make a real dash for safety, my heart plummeted.
The alley I’d stumbled into was a dead end, boxed in by buildings on either side that met several feet beyond where I stood, leaving no gap between them. And Xavier’s hulking form filled the only exit.
I raised my pistol and pulled the trigger, but all I got was a hollow clicking sound. I’d used up all my bullets. My mind leapt to the tiny gun Anthea had gifted me, but that was in the purse I’d yet again left in the car. That little handbag wasn’t the kind of thing it was easy to carry with you on tense missions.
Xavier gave me a sharp-edged smile. “Here we are again, little kitty. I think you’ve finally used up the last of your nine lives.” He took a menacing step toward me.
I tossed the useless pistol aside—Wylder could get me another when I needed it, and right now I wanted both my hands free. My gaze darted over the brick walls around me. “Killing these people isn’t going to bring Josey back. They’ve got nothing to do with it, Xavier. I’ve got nothing to do with it. It’s not like I asked to be born.”
“Oh, but you were,” Xavier said, his smirk stretching wider. “And now you’ll die.”
“You’re sick,” I spat, backing up a couple of steps. “You didn’t need to involve all these people. You want to pick a fight with me, then fight with me.”
“I intend to.” He raised his gun. “I think I’ll start by blasting away those tricksy feet of yours so you can’t run off again, and then I’ll take the rest of you apart with my bare hands.”
I took another frantic glance around me and spotted an open window on the side of the building two floors up. But I had to buy enough time to get to it first. I groped at my pockets, as if I might have brought a knife and just forgotten about it—and my fingers brushed the slight protrusion of my childhood bracelet.