Page 95 of Heroes & Hitmen
He turns and walks away without another word, his two goons falling in step behind him.
Elias exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours, remaining silent while the three men pile into their SUV and leave. Then he whirls on me, jaw clenched and eyes burning with fury.
“I gave you the signal, you were supposed to take them out!”
I cross my arms, scoffing a laugh. “You want me to shoot three men in broad daylight over a little disagreement?”
The look he gives me is one of pure hatred, his whole body practically vibrating with rage. “This is why you’re not an Alpha, Raines,” he sneers, pointing a thick finger at me. “You don’t have the balls.”
I step in close, getting right up in his face. I’ve got four inches and fifty pounds on the guy, and I use every bit of it to my advantage as I drop my voice to a low, dangerous decibel. “Or maybe I’m not stupid enough to start a war just to appease your fragile ego,” I growl, allowing my wolf to push forward justenough to gleam threateningly in my irises. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“I’m reporting this to Alpha Gage,” he snarls as he pushes past me, muttering something under his breath about orders and consequences.
“Go ahead,” I call after him. “Doubt he’ll care, since we’re about to be family and all.”
That shuts him up for a second, but then he wheels back around, eyes narrowed. “Not if I can help it,” he seethes.
Burke storms off toward the car and I let him go, hanging back and staring out at the water as the adrenaline burns out of my system. I watch the river roll by, a dangerous thought creeping in– that it’d be almost too easy to put a bullet in Elias’ back and blame it on a meeting gone wrong. But that wouldn’t actually solve anything, and for the first time, I’ve got too much to lose.
I think about Miley. About the look she gave me last night when I tried to comfort her, like I was the only thing she needed, even though she hates needing anybody.
So, I shove the thought down, turn my back on the river, and stride over to join Elias at the car. Because I’m not just a weapon anymore, I’mhers. And I’ll burn down this whole damn city to protect what’s mine.
But river keeps moving behind me, relentless and unbothered, and maybe that’s the truth of it. Nothing stops the current. Not fate. Not love. Not even me.
CHAPTER 30
Miley
Sunshine streamsthrough the bedroom window, warm and golden, spilling across the floor like a promise. The weather’s perfect– bright, breezy, not a single cloud in sight– and I take it as a sign that the universe is finally throwing me a bone.
My sisters and I made a plan earlier in the week: if Saturday dawned sunny, we’d hit the beach. No overthinking, no last-minute cancellations. No pairings, politics, or powerplays. Just a full day in the sand with zero responsibilities.
The group chat’s already blowing up by the time I start pulling myself together for the day, Jordan sending aggressive all-caps messages demanding that I hurry up. I scroll through with a laugh, feeling a surprising lightness in my chest as I pull my favorite bikini from my drawer and put it on. The ribbed lavender fabric hugs my body just right, and I toss a soft white sundress over it, tying my hair back in a messy braid. Loose enough to look effortless, tight enough to keep it out of my face.Perfect.
For the first time in a while, I don’t feel like I’m dressing for battle. Just the beach, the sun, and the promise of quality sister bonding time.
I pack a tote with military precision, filling it with all the necessities– towel, sunblock, sunglasses, a well-loved paperback, extra hair ties– while leaving plenty of room for snacks. Slinging it up over my shoulder, I turn to regard my reflection in the mirror, and that’s when it hits me.
This is the last time I’ll ever get todo this.
One last, carefree beach day with my sisters before I disappear and everything changes.
My chest goes tight as it sneaks up on me– a pang of grief so quick and sharp I almost lose my breath. I’m tempted to linger in it, let it carve out space for what I’m about to lose, but then I hear the clatter of dishes from the kitchen and am quickly distracted from the emotional spiral I was about to go down.
I step into the kitchen, and there’s Ares– shirtless, for absolutely no reason other than to make a statement about his abs, squinting at the dishwasher like he’s never encountered modern appliances before. His muscles flex in slow motion as he reaches in and attempts to rearrange the lower shelf, lips drawn in a frown.
“What the hell are you doing to my dishes?” I ask, dropping my bag on the counter with a thud and opening the cabinet above to raid it for snacks.
He looks up, and that stupidly sexy smirk spreads across his face like it’s just been waiting for a chance to attack me. “Morning,” he greets, voice still gravelly from sleep.
“Are you trying to commit a hate crime against my plates?” I deadpan, arching a brow.
“They started it,” he replies without missing a beat, straightening and wiping his hands off on a towel. “Your cutlery is hostile. I was just defending myself.”
I glance down at the dishwasher, where the silverware is sticking out from the basket at odd angles like a metallic threat. “Right. The spoons staged a coup.”
“Exactly.” He leans back against the counter, folding his arms. His eyes flick to the beach bag, then travel leisurely down my legs and back up, making zero effort at subtlety. “Where are you headed?” he asks, cocking his head.
