Our blood had been spilled.
Now, we would spill theirs.
I stopped in front of Tank and held the gun to his head. “Was this you?”
He paled. “No.”
“Do you know who?”
He was silent and then released a breath. “Yes.”
“Give me one good reason not to shoot you.” I gnashed my teeth and waited while the men around me kept silent.
He stared me down and then said, “Because I’m an FBI plant.”
I almost burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Maybe I was going crazy. I called over my shoulder. “Is it true?”
Chase answered first. “Yes. We knew yesterday.”
“Cool.” I pulled my gun away from his temple and shoved him toward the door. “You’re driving.”
He sighed and muttered. “Figured.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Junior
We pulled up to Eagle Elite when it was starting to get dark. I didn’t hide the fact that my Glock was out just like Serena didn’t hide the fact that she looked minutes away from executing Tank if he blinked wrong in her direction.
He pulled out his own fifty caliber that I’m sure he’d been packing the entire time and walked with us toward the dorm.
“Before you go in, just know—” He put his hand on my shoulder. “—it’s not all of them; most of them are innocent.”
“Innocent.” I snorted. “They’re about as innocent as I am.”
He swallowed and looked away. “I’m a De Lange too, you know.”
Junior cursed while Serena looked ready to scratch his eyes out.
He kept talking. “Your dad gave us options,” he said thickly. “Either for or against, and since I was a fucking twelve-year-old when I lost both parents to a De Lange cleansing, I chose to work for the law and keep the FBI on our side.” He shot Serena a look. “I’m good at pretending.”
She lunged for him, which only earned a laugh from me. “Holy shit, and why didn’t my dad let us know?”
“It was need to know, and then you invited everyone into Eagle Elite, which was brilliant, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
“And I knew my cover was about to be blown.” He sighed. “Last night I got a text from one of the guys, said he was tired of being a charity case and that somebody needed to make an example. I texted Serena to meet for coffee as an excuse to get in and talk him from the ledge, but his roommate said he’d left for the weekend.” A spasm of emotion twisted his face for the briefest moment. “I wrongly assumed he’d changed his mind and was a big talker. If you want to blame someone, blame me.”
I slid my key card and jerked the glass door open. “No blaming in this life, we’re all at fault. Let’s just hope that Ash hasn’t already killed everyone since we’re about four minutes behind him.”
We piled into the building then took the elevator to the top floor.
I heard a gunshot and then a scream.
Shit.
The minute the doors opened, I saw Ash, standing with his gun pointed up and dust coming from the ceiling.
“Who?” he shouted.
One of the girls started crying while guys surrounded all the girls, hugging them, protecting them.
Not how I’d seen my Friday going.
We stepped in behind him.
He did a double-take, and then his face softened. “You guys don’t have to do this.”
“Neither do you,” Serena said in a quiet voice. “It was one person, Ash, not all of them.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter!” he roared.
“It does.” I stepped next to him. “Because we aren’t our parents, and you, Asher Abandonato, are not your dad.”
My words hit him like a blow to the chest as he very slowly lowered his gun. Tears filled his eyes as he stared ahead. “It hurts.”
“Then let it hurt,” I rasped. “But hurting someone else who didn’t do shit, isn’t going to make your hurt any less severe. You’re bleeding man, sometimes the only way to heal is to let the blood do its job—cleanse.”
“You’re a De Lange,” Ash said bitterly. “You’re technically the heir!”
“Then shoot me.” I took a step back and held up my hands. “If that’s going to make you feel better, fucking shoot me!”
More screams erupted around me as Ash lifted his gun again. “And what if I do?”
“Then you prove to everyone around us that we’re broken, that the system’s broken, that history can’t help but repeat itself over and over again.” I shook my head. “We’re better than this, Ash. We’re better than our parents. We need to fix this. Not make it worse.”
“Shit, I hate when he makes sense,” Breaker muttered under his breath while Serena shot me a panicked look.
I nodded slowly in her direction and mouthed, “Banana.”
It was our code word for her to turn on her psycho flirt mode. It was impressive as hell to watch.
With a shocked smile, she sauntered up to Tank and pressed the gun against his back, then pressed a kiss to his cheek, using tongue. “Which one?”