But that was exactly what Bryant had trained me to do. He raised and groomed me in the language of violence so I could be his ultimate weapon, but I was done being his. He had taken everything from me to make me believe that my bitterness and rage was justified, that all I was and all I had left was the tool of my trade, my weaponized body.
And that wasn’t true anymore.
I had my brothers, again.
The Gentlemen, Ezra behind me and Henrik and Walcott with my two most prized possessions.
Bianca and Brandon.
Even if––my thoughts hiccoughed over the idea––even if they were gone, Bianca would never condone Bryant’s murder. She wouldn’t want that blood on my hands or years in jail wasted away as a consequence.
She would want me to find my way back to joy.
And that meant ending the cycle.
Choosing grace instead of violence.
The biggest fuck you I could give Bryant was to step away from everything he’d tried so hard to teach me.
So I threw down the piece of glass and stood up even though it was the hardest thing I’d ever fucking done.
“Step away from Mr. Morelli, Tiernan,” a new voice warned from behind me.
I barely heard him, but suddenly Beckett was behind me, slotting himself between the desk and my body, blocking me from the door.
When I looked up, there were two Morelli guardsmen at the door. They’d knocked out Ezra who lay crumpled at their feet.
One of them had their gun trained on me.
The other was holding Bianca.
My heart stuttered to a smoking, crashing halt.
“I’m okay,” she assured with a faint smile even though the guard had her in a chokehold. “But Tiernan, I think they blew up Lion Court. I just went to the gate because Tilda was there––”
“Enough,” Bryant’s warbled voice cut through the room. “If you want her to live, get off.”
I moved away from Bryant slowly, watching the guard with Bianca, watching Bryant as he staggered to his feet and slumped in his chair dabbing at the blood spilling from his split lip and chin.
He looked at me for one single second that seemed to last a life time.
There was no empathy in that gaze, no warmth or love. Just an empty chamber where goodness went to die.
And I knew what he was going to do because he was just that fucking evil and only a psychopath would harm an innocent like Bianca.
“Kill her,” he demanded.
But I was already moving, darting around Beckett and the desk, running at the guard threatening the best fucking thing that had ever happened to me, the only woman kind enough and strong enough to love a monster like me.
The guard, a man I’d worked with countless times named Ethan, raised his gun at me and fired.
The bullet tore through my still-healing shoulder.
I didn’t stop.
It all happened so fast, my focus intent on Bianca, but I knew Lucian and Carter were engaged with the other guard, that Beckett was doing something to Bryant.
I was six paces away, so fucking close.
Ethan fired again.
The bullet cut through my side like a flaming arrow. A grunt of savage pain blasted across my tongue, but I couldn’t stop now.
Nothing could have quelled the momentum inside me driving me toward Bianca.
It was gravitational.
Even if I fell, I’d do it after reaching her.
After saving her as clearly as she’d saved me from a life of pain, misery and loneliness.
When I was two steps away, my right hand chopped at the inside of the guard’s wrist and the other grabbed the barrel, forcing the gun back at a painful angle. I was slower than normal, sluggish with pain, and he was able to fire another shot before I could turn the gun fully away from me.
It nicked the side of my neck, a blazing trail of fire that threatened to swallow me whole.
I fell to the ground, but the gun was in my grip, torn from the assailant.
Immediately, Ezra, who’d been coming to on the ground, scissored his legs and took the guard to the ground. He crawled over him, pressing his forearm to the man’s neck while he struggled.
My vision swam and I fell to the side, landing hard against the side that had taken a bullet to the belly and shoulder. Breath exploded out of me, black spots spiraling through my vision.
I struggled to stay conscious because Bianca wasn’t safe yet.
But I should have had more faith in my little thing.
Because she bent to me, shucking her coat to press it against my seeping neck wound. She was murmuring to me, but I couldn’t hear anything. When she pressed my hand over the jacket to stem the flow, I applied as much pressure as I could and when she bent to kiss me, her tears hot as blood on my face, I tried to kiss her back.