I could no longer hold it in. My scream ripped through the air at the same time I heard commotion on the other side of the wall. Male voices screamed and then two shots rang.
I couldn’t mourn the possible death of Keiran with my own impending. I only hoped he didn’t suffer as I was about to.
The Handler disregarded it all and tore at my jeans. “No!” I screamed again when he managed to get them to my knees. A harsh backhand sent me backward. I hit the floor way too hard and couldn’t bring myself to move.
This was it.
I was giving up.
I deserved everything that would be done to me.
My only wish was that I would see Dash’s face one last time so I could tell him what I had been so scared to admit since he came into my life.
I stared up at The Handler rather than look away. It was my one last atonement for what I’d done. I sent a prayer up, hoping Keiran wouldn’t suffer too much even though I knew he would.
I barely registered my legs being forced apart and his hulking body settling between them.
I barely registered what sounded like the creak of a door opening.
But when I saw two hands grab The Handler’s neck and his eyes widen with surprise and fear, feeling in my body and soul came rushing back at once.
The sickening crunch of The Handler’s neck as it was savagely snapped filled the warehouse. I braced for him to fall forward, but he was dragged away and I was left with the vision of Keiran standing over me. His expression was fierce and his eyes, dark with rage.
He had just been outnumbered and unarmed yet somehow killed them all.
Those few moments did what fourteen years couldn’t. It was then I realized he was someone to fear after all.
He stepped forward and I shrunk back, expecting and fully deserving to be next, but then he shocked me when he bent and lifted me. He stepped over The Handler’s lifeless body and carried me out.
When the day began, I thought of Keiran as my enemy and him likely the same, yet we had risked all to save each other.
In the end, it didn’t matter anyway. Esmerelda had gotten away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
WILLOW
KEIRAN HAD SILENTLY driven us away from the carnage. We had yet to speak a word to each other until he stopped just outside the city.
“Why are we here?” I stared up at the sign of the small diner that read Joey’s Pizza Creations.
“I’m hungry.”
I stared at him dumbfounded. “And you have to eat now?”
“Yes. We need to talk.” He snatched the key out of the ignition and flung himself from the car. I scrambled after him while he waited with the door held open.
“We need to get you to a hospital. There could be side effects. There should be side effects.”
He didn’t appear fazed as he stared down at me. “All right,” he shrugged. “Let’s make a deal. You eat with me, and I’ll go to the hospital after.”
For someone who almost died and killed a room full of people, he had his priorities screwed. “Please,” he added when I continued to stare.
“Fine.” I told myself I only agreed because he would only do what please him anyway and stepped in the diner with him close behind me. The patrons watched us with wary expressions, and I realized how bad we looked. I sported only a busted lip and stained shirt but Keiran’s shirt was torn. Bruises marred his body and blood stained his clothing in spatters.
If Keiran had noticed the looks of disgust, he didn’t show it as he swaggered to the counter. He looked back and grinned. “Cheese or pep?”
I tilted my head in confusion before coming to my senses. “Cheese.”
“Cheese it is,” he directed toward the pimply faced cashier. While Keiran paid, I found the nearest booth and slid inside, no longer able to trust my legs to hold me up. I placed my head in my hands and mentally counted all the reasons I was a horrible person. I never even noticed Keiran approach minutes later.