missed it more than I realized the past year and a half. “Kristin didn’t just organize the hit on Dane, she killed him, Regan. She was brought in for questioning this afternoon.”
“Is she still under arrest?”
Air leaves my lungs in a hurry when I shake my head. “No. She was released two hours ago.”
When I hear Regan throw open a car door, I shout, “Authorities are on their way,” before giving my car the thrashing of its life.
I race through the streets of Ravenshoe feeling more alive than I have the past year. Only one moment in time has trumped it. When I kissed a trail from Melody’s neck to the waistband of her panties. The taste of her skin on my tongue should have been enough. I should have appreciated what I had.
Instead, I fucked it up.
I always fuck it up.
As I skid to a stop next to Alex’s old sedan, I shake my head, ridding it of the negativity bombarding it. My already brisk strides double when the ricochet of a gun being fired bellows down the stairwell I’m climbing. It’s a quick pop, pop, pop noise that’s closely followed by a fourth bang. The final shot appears to be a higher caliber than its predecessor.
With the firing of multiple guns waking them from their sleep, several agents leave the safety of their apartments. Mercifully, none of them mistake me as the intruder. I may not be a part of their team anymore, but they know I’m not a baddie.
“FBI agents. Put down your weapon,” I shout before pushing open Alex’s partially cracked open door and storming into his living room.
The scene is one I’ve entered many times before, but for once, the good guys won. Two small blonde girls are clutching Regan’s thighs. Alex has been shot in the shoulder but appears stable, and Kristin is lying lifeless on the floor with three bullet wounds to her torso and one to her head.
I should be pleased by the outcome, it could have ended much worse, but for some reason, I can’t find joy in it. I guess my mom’s old saying is true:
Every thought is a battle
Every breath is a war
But once you give up
You can’t win anymore.
35
Brandon
“Did you catch up on any sleep today? You look like shit.”
I roll my eyes at Phillipa before accepting the towel she’s holding out for me. I’m in the bathroom in my apartment, and she has no respect for privacy.
While wrapping the towel around my waist and grabbing another from under the vanity to dry my shaggy hair, I ask, “Did Kristin pull through?”
Phillipa waits for me to get myself into some sort of order before she shakes her head, acting ignorant to the liquor she smells leeching from my pores. “Her daughters will stay with Alex until their next of kin arrive.”
My lips twist. “I thought Alex was their guardian?”
Phillipa sighs. “So did I. Turns out Kristin changed that part of her will when Dane’s insurance fell through. She couldn’t suck him dry anymore, so she went after his parents.”
A pfft vibrates off my lips. “From the reports I read, that’s the equivalent of seeking blood out of a stone. They don’t have any money.”
I can only work off what I’ve seen, but it appears as if Kristin was accepting payments from Isaac without Dane’s knowledge. Was it for illegal purposes? I don’t know. That’s something Grayson’s team will look at when they endeavor to unearth how all the storylines surrounding this town are merging into one.
When Phillipa lifts her chin, agreeing with me, I gesture mine to my open bedroom door, requesting a minute to get dressed. A halfhearted grin tugs at my lips when she rolls her eyes. She hasn’t flirted with me since the gala. I assumed her lack of interest was because her cover was blown. I’ve been thinking differently the past few days.
I can’t one hundred percent testify to this, but I’m reasonably sure her focus was on something else—or should I say, someone else. You can’t continue crushing on someone when a new crush shows up. Only fools who believe they can reignite old flames give that notion a run for its money.
After yanking on a pair of sweatpants and tugging a shirt over my head, I join Phillipa in my living room. “How did you get past my security?”
She pulls a ‘duh’ face. “You mean the digital lock with Melody’s date of birth as the pin?”
Not needing further explanation, I pace into