Lorenzo’s jaw gapes in a silent scream. Blood smears his face, eyes swollen, his complexion waning from red to blue.
I stand on one side, hands numbing around the belt. On Lorenzo’s other side, Shane presses him against the floor as his body writhes, legs kicking, fingers clawing at the leather around his throat.
Strangulation is an excruciatingly slow way to go. In those harrowing minutes, the enormity of what I’m doing has time to slither beneath my skin and suffocate my vital organs. I hold strong with the reminder that my responsibility to protect Ivory overrides everything else.
Lorenzo’s fingers fall away from his throat, and with a jerk of his leg, he loses the fight.
It’s finished.
Shane collapses on his ass, hands flying to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open with exertion. Horror. Shock.
Adrenaline tingles through my limbs as I drop the belt and press my shaking fingers against the swollen Destroy on Lorenzo’s throat. No pulse. There’s irony in that, something I’ll contemplate when our wounds are no longer raw.
I step back and shrug out of my jacket, sweating against conflicting bouts of relief and reality.
I just killed a man.
A man who broke into my house.
Who killed our cat.
Who attempted and maybe succeeded in raping Ivory again.
Because I wasn’t here.
My chest burns, my entire world rotating and spinning toward her. “Ivory?”
For the first time since I came in, she moves. Just her eyes, shifting them to mine. Blood rims her nostrils, stains her lips, and dots the front of her t-shirt.
My stomach twists. I need to take the cat, hug her, obliterate the distance between us. I reach for her.
She jerks back, her arms tightening around Schubert’s dangling body.
Not ready to let him go? Not ready for me to touch her?
I understand, but dammit, I feel her rejection like a fist to the heart.
A glance at Shane confirms he’s still dazed, staring at the body with unblinking, glassy eyes.
My pocket vibrates with a text alert. Goddammit. Whoever is trying to reach me has terrible timing.
I loosen my tie and toss it. Then I step in front of Ivory and brush my fingers across her jaw. She doesn’t react, her gaze distant, unfocused. When I lower my caress to the arm around Schubert, she releases an anguished cry and stumbles back.
Okay. I won’t separate her from the cat. “I just need to know you’re okay.”
Her demeanor goes cold, detached, except her arms, which hold Schubert tighter.
“I fought him.” Her voice is a hollow metronome. “Bit him. Scratched his face.”
“Good girl.” I want to pull her against me so badly, but if I do, I’ll unravel. I have to keep my shit together until this mess is contained. “Did he rape—?”
“No.” A flicker of life stirs in the muddy brown depths of her eyes. “Shane stopped him.”
Did her brother have a stroke of guilt? A sudden heart transplant? A hidden agenda? Hell knows why he stepped in, but fuck, I’m breathing a little easier knowing he did.
Shane’s wheezing grows louder, more frantic, his blood-shot eyes on the waste of life that was Lorenzo. Maybe Shane isn’t a threat at the moment, but he will be if he runs. Honestly, he looks like he’s seconds from a meltdown.
Another text comes in. I pull the phone from my pocket, but Shane’s guttural cry draws my attention.
He covers his face with his hands, wailing like a fucking pansy. “He was my best friend.” His body rocks. “Oh God, he saved my life, and we killed him.”
I maintain a towering stance above him, a position of power. “We killed the sack of shit who’s been raping your sister for four years.”
Snapping his jaw shut, he looks away.
Ivory stares at the floor, her expression blank. She’s in shock. But she’s strong as hell. There isn’t a doubt in my mind she’ll be sassing me again in no time.
I refocus on Shane and steel my voice with authority. “You’re in deeper shit than I am.”
His eyes lift, tears falling down his face. “How’s that? We both—”
“Castle law. In the state of Louisiana, I have the right to defend myself and others on my property. That includes the use of deadly force against intruders. Justifiable homicide.” I point at Ivory. “I was fucking justified.”
Problem is, if I call the cops, I’ll be arrested for a different crime. My high school student wasn’t just visiting my house while I was at work. She lives here. I won’t be able to hide that. Not with Shane involved. If I turn him in, he’ll return the favor.
I have two choices. Call the authorities and face a publicized student-teacher trial that would destroy not only my future, but Ivory’s. Or deal with the body and make all of this go away.
The second option only works with Shane’s cooperation. As much as I want to bury his worthless ass with Lorenzo, we’re in this together.
I glance at my phone. A missed call and two texts from my PI.
Smith: Gandara is free.