Page 17 of How Much For a Life of Lies?

“You gonna shoot the only witness?” I deadpanned.

He threw me a glance that made my chest tighten. “If you don’t leave me alone, yes.” For a moment, I saw familiar confidence, but it quickly became despair, and it chilled me. We entered an epic stare-off, but he looked away first. “You’ll never understand why I wanted him dead.”

I waited for more, but he was silent, and I knocked his foot with mine. “Try me.”

“I have regrets,” he began, then snorted. “I regret I didn’t kill him neater, so no one would know, but I regret he didn’t get to feel an ounce of the pain that I… that kids here had felt.”

I heard the slip, but this was his story, and I wanted to let it unfold. Only he was quiet again, so I poked at him. “So you don’t regret killing him when our mission was retrieval and interrogation?”

“Hell, no. And when I saw him… Nah, there was no way it would be neat.” He tipped his chin—the stubborn ass. “And I won’t let anyone lock me away for what I did so you need to leave so I can grab my shit and go.” He stared at me, his gaze focused and determined.

I’d seen this expression before in people facing the end of things when death was certain. Was he planning something stupid before anyone locked him away for murder? My breath caught, and I tensed, ready to leap for his gun if he even so much as twitched.

“You need to tell me what the hell happened.”

He huffed a laugh, but it lacked humor. This wasn’t a joke—he really was going to do something stupid. He was fast, but not fast enough to prevent me from wrestling the gun from him before he put a bullet in his brain.

“I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“So, you’re running?”

“Wouldn’t you?” He raised an eyebrow. All the shakiness in him vanished.

“I won’t let you leave.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna stop me?”

“Nope, you’re my partner. Where you go, I go.”

Kai’s eyes darkened with worry, his brow furrowing. “Now you want to be partners?” He huffed again, but this time there was a hint of laughter there, as if it amazed him I’d called him that.

“It was an op gone bad. I called it in.” I was desperate to get through to him. “I’ve got your back, despite you not telling me shit.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Says you.”

He sighed again, fatigued as he pressed his other hand to his temple. “I’m not taking you down with me.”

“You’re a stubborn prick.” We stared at each other, neither willing to back down, only it was me who broke the silence. “Jesus, Kai, why? Tell me what I need to say to ops. Did you think he had me pinned? Why would you?—”

“He’s like my father,” Kai murmured. For all the quietness of them, the words held hatred in every syllable, raw, sudden, and deadly. None of them made sense as he pressed a hand to his chest.

“What?”

“My sperm donor was an abusive, drug-dealing, people-trafficking, off-grid, murdering psycho who hated me. When I saw the room with the ropes and the blood, and then Clarke, I saw the man who hurt me, and I panicked, okay!”

“Shit,” I said, because what in God’s name could I say to that?

He stared up at me, his jaw tight, his brows drawn together in a deep furrow of frustration. Fire burned in his eyes, a fierce intensity hinting at the storm of emotions brewing just beneath the surface.

“You saw the photos. Clarke was yet another man who decided fourteen-year-old kids were fair game.” He winced as he spoke as if he’d revealed too much.

Horror gripped me. Kai shook his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just leave.” He held out a hand as if he expected me to shake it. “Nice knowing you, Frogman,” he deadpanned, but I could see the pain in his eyes, and my heart hurt.

Please tell me your father didn’t hurt you, please tell me he didn’t abuse you.

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