Page 132 of Chaos Kills

It’s better than grief.

And it’s way better than fucking guilt.

“Don’t come to me again,” he bites out through a sneer. His face twisted in disgust that he’s in the same vehicle as me. “Don’t save me. Don’t look my way, and if someone else calls you and tells you that I’m dying, for the love of fucking God, do not visit me.” My lips part to agree, but not before he lands his next comment. “And the next time you tease me, I’m shooting you. Got me, McQueen?”

There’s no point in arguing with him. No point in trying—to do what, I don’t know. He’s done with me. It’s time for me to accept that shit.

I bow my head in acknowledgment, and Reeve stupidly tosses the gun in my lap before exiting the car.

Slamming the door, I don’t wait for another surprise or words of confirmation that we’re over.

This is it.

We’re done.

My head firmly states that.

But my heart pleads that we’re still out in the middle of nowhere. And I’m not letting him out of my sight until he’s home.

Safely.

THIRTY

torin

I wouldn’t have been thereif Cairo hadn’t called and said Reeve was at Breeze Bar.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

I recall the place too well. I’ve been there way too many times. And I’m not surprised she was there, too.

It’s fitting.

Just like old times.

I only briefly caught how Travis Muncy reached out to Cairo as he explained what was happening at rapid speed, something about Bay’s call, everything else was a moot point.

Ideas of Matteo De Leon pressed up against Bay Astor reared up old and ugly memories and shot up right into my fucked-up head.

Too much need and want in those thoughts.

I was obsessed with Bay—shocker. She may have been a blonde then, but those fucking eyes are what did and do it for me every time.

Every single fucking time.

I planned to go in covertly and get them out. But the moment I snuck into the back room and found that meaty son of a bitch’s hands all over what’s mine, what’s always been mine, and whatwill forever be mine until I say it’s fucking not, that strategy went out the fucking window.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?” Cairo mutters, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather wheel of his Benz.

He’s annoyed, I don’t need him to explain it. However, I’m not the source of it tonight.

“And have you bitch at me about going rogue?” I shoot back. “Hard pass.”

“You did good.”

Eh, I wouldn’t say that.

Good would’ve been doing what my brother just said and finally putting a bullet in De Leon’s head.

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