Page 116 of Sinfully Yours

Ryan swears. Dean moves. But I throw out a hand, stopping them. Because Andrew—panicked, frantic, unpredictable—is pressing too hard, his arm trembling. If they rush him, he might snap.

Ava is stiff in his grip, her breaths short and shallow, her hands hovering like she's deciding whether to claw at his arm or wait for an opening. Her eyes lock onto mine.

She's scared.

And I swear to God, something in me snaps.

"Let her go," I say, my voice dropping into something colder.

Andrew jerks his chin toward me, the wild look in his eyes flashing with something almost manic. "You don't get it, Carter. She's going to destroy me." His voice pitches higher. "I did everything she asked! I got her information! I kept tabs on Ava, on her brothers. I handed her everything! And now–now I'm the one who's screwed? Me?" He lets out a harsh, broken laugh. "You think she's gonna let me walk away? She's gonna make me disappear."

Ava lets out a strangled sound as his arm tightens slightly. My pulse spikes dangerously.

"Andrew." I take a step forward, slow and measured. "Listen to me."

His breathing hitches, erratic and ragged.

"You're right," I say. "Vanessa will burn you if she gets the chance. But that's why you need to workwithus, not against us."

His eyes dart around, looking for an exit that doesn't exist.

I push forward. "You think you're alone in this? That Vanessa's only after you? She's been pulling the same shit with me for years. And I promise you, she will screw you over, just like she's screwed over every other idiot who thought she was their way out."

His jaw twitches.

I press further. "But here's the thing, Andrew—you do have a way out. If you work with us, if you help us take her down, then you don't have to be afraid of her anymore."

His grip loosens. Slightly.

Ava swallows, her voice carefully controlled. "She's using you, Andrew. Just like she's used everyone else. But you can make this right."

Something breaks in his expression. The last crumbling piece of whatever conviction he had left.

He shudders. And then…

He drops the crowbar.

It clatters to the ground, the sound ricocheting through the empty construction site like a gunshot.

Ava stumbles as he releases her. I lunge forward, catching her before she can hit the ground, my hands steadying her waist, holding her tight for one brief, grounding second.

She breathes out shakily, but she's okay. She's okay.

Andrew stumbles back a step, his entire body shaking. His hands press into his hair, his breath coming in ragged, broken gasps. And then, finally—he collapses onto his knees.

He doesn't fight anymore.

Doesn't run.

Just sits there. Shaking.

I keep one arm around Ava, pulling my phone from my pocket.

"Tyler," I say when he picks up. "Tell the cops to get here now."

I keep the phone pressed to my ear, my other hand still steady on Ava's back as she catches her breath. Her fingers curl lightly in my shirt, her body tense but solid, like she's forcing herself to stay upright. I don't let go.

On the other end of the line, Tyler lets out a low whistle. "Jesus. What the hell happened?"

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