THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,358

ones holding the fucking gun,” V says, playing Ghandi. We’re always the ones holding the guns. That’s why this whole situation is so laughably stupid. I’m not a nice guy. Neither is my cuff mate.

Lainey glances at me. Her eyes fill with unshed tears. She mouths a single word. A word that tells me everything I need to know. You. I blink twice and give her an imperceptible nod. This is it.

She takes a step closer and focuses her aim on my head, right between my eyes.

The kitchen sink drips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Lainey

“I NEED TO be alone with them,” I say, my voice shaking. It matches the rest of my body that seems to be in the middle of some sort of shuddering panic attack. I’ll never get this vision out of my mind. Dax and Cody sitting on the floor of this vacant house, looking horrified because of me. Cody’s beautiful face in the crosshairs of his own fucking weapon—all of it is of the wildest caliber of macabre. Handling this situation requires more finesse than I’m capable of. I called them here and told them I needed them.

When V doesn’t respond I clear my throat. “Just for a second. To say goodbye. I owe them that,” I say, flicking my gaze to Vadim. I smirk, the confident one that lets him know I’m in control and ready to do as I’m asked. He looks nervous, leery, but I’m holding a gun. What choice does he have? I’m on his side, remember? I return my gaze to my gun, not to what I’m aiming at. If you aim a gun, you should be prepared to fire it. It’s the number one rule of gun ownership. Uneasiness mixes with my nerves and it’s about as unpleasant as a UTI and a yeast infection at the same time. The black gun blurs in my vision. I can’t fucking pass out now. Don’t you dare pass out, bitch, I tell myself.

“Do it quickly. The mark of a good agent is the speed in which you make life or death decisions,” he says, eyeing me up and down. He has so many of his goons in this house that I’m not sure exactly how I’ll get out, or how we’ll manage, but I’ve stalled as long as I can. He’s right. We’re alone on this side of the house, so my only hope is that I can be quick enough to do what needs to be done. Sucking in a deep breath, I try to calm my nerves. It’s been a while, but I can do this. I don’t—can’t—make eye contact with Cody or Dax again. I feel too much when I do. They make it worse. V begins his exit.

Sweeping the gun right, with my finger on the trigger, I stop when I have Vadim in my sights. His back is to me. It’s a low blow move, but too much is at stake right now. Way more than I anticipated. With my hand steady, my aim perfect, I pull the trigger and watch as the bullet flies and enters V’s back. He slumps first to his knees and then onto his stomach. I have seconds. Maybe even less. This is it.

I still don’t look at the men in the face. I stoop down, pull a kitchen knife out of the back of my pajama pants, and cut off the zip ties on their ankles and then their hands. From shooting Vadim to cutting them free it takes less than ten seconds. I catch a quick glimpse of Dax in my peripheral and notice he’s staring at my face, like truly staring, wondering who the fuck I am. Cody isn’t wasting any time wondering who I am. He knows. He’s pulling another gun out of his leg holster and preparing to pepper whoever comes blasting into this room next. Dax backs away, looking down at V. He’s moaning, not dead yet, but it’s a grave injury. I made sure of it. No words are exchanged, but we’re all on the same page. Cody drags Vadim behind a kitchen island, leaving a trail of blood as he goes. I imagine he wants to mutilate him with a dull spoon and a hot pan, but currently there’s no time. There will never be enough hours in the day for him to inflict the type of pain he deserves. I swallow down the guilt and try to remember to breathe. It’s unfortunate and fortunate at the same