Page 124 of The Captive and the First Blood Game
“But I don’twantto kill her, Beckham. Don’t make me the bad guy here.”
Reyna laughed a short, hysterical breath.
Harrington ignored her, gesturing to the dead body lying between them. “Why don’t we act civilized, hmm? Let’s forgo our baser qualities for the moment. Look what we’re going to have to clean up.”
Harrington might actually kill her. Her hands trembled from the cold and terror as they moved into the folds of her gown. She could take a gun out now. She could turn around and shoot Harrington. She wasn’t faster than him, but she might be able to catch him by surprise.
Beckham’s eyes moved to hers, and he shook his head marginally. Just enough for her to see that he was telling her no.Don’t do it.
She knew she could get herself killed trying it, but she had to try.
“Fine,” Beckham said.
He prowled away from Roland. Roland straightened his suit and narrowed his eyes at Beckham’s back.
“There we are. Back to manners,” Harrington said. He released Reyna with ease and assessed her with cold calculation. “You are freezing.”
Yes. She was actually trembling now. Cold was creeping into her bones. Beckham slipped his coat off his shoulders. He stepped forward, eyeing both Harrington and Roland carefully before slipping it onto her small frame. It enveloped her, dropping down nearly to her knees. Blood soaked the expensive material, and a trail from the collar smudged onto her collarbone. She could smell the tangy rust.
Harrington patted Beckham affectionately on the shoulder. It was as if all was well in the world. As if Beckham hadn’t just killed someone.
“That’s better.”
Beckham brushed Harrington’s hand off of his shoulder. “Hardly. You kidnapped my sister and kept her hidden from me for years. You kidnapped Reyna and tortured her. You treated me like a son, and yet you never trusted me.”
“Trust,” Harrington scoffed. “You had it. You’re my prodigy, Beckham. You are a son to me.”
“If you believed that, then you would not need Bronwyn as a bargaining chip. Or Reyna, for that matter. I should have followed my instincts all those years ago and killed you the second you stepped foot in my city.”
Harrington waved his hand dismissively. “More of this ‘my city’ business. If it was truly yours, then you wouldn’t have handed it over to me so readily. I didn’t even have to kill you like you killed your predecessor.”
“You were offering us a utopia. I was a fool to have ever believed in it. Now I won’t stop until I see it ended.”
Harrington sighed. “Oh, Beckham, I do wish you hadn’t said that.”
“I was wrong about you. About all of you and all of this.” His eyes moved from Harrington to Roland and back. “I will burn you to the ground.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” Harrington said. “I am already burningyoudown. Your little bunker. Your little rebellion. All of Elle.”
Reyna’s hand flew to her mouth. She took a step forward without knowing she’d done it, as if she could somehow get him to take it back. What about everyone inside? What about her brother and Laura? What about Sydney and Washington and Tye? Even Everett. All those people working toward this moment of triumph. And now they were burning. Her throat closed up. She could almost smell the smoke from where she stood in horror.
“You burned down Elle?” Beckham asked, his voice as sharp as a razor blade.
“I’d thought you’d at least deny your involvement. Show me you are still the person I recruited so many years ago. It’s a shame. I wanted it to be you.” Harrington did look moved. But not repentant.
“I won’t deny anything.” Beckham seized Roland by the neck and then threw him backward. Roland collided with the building and crumpled, cracking the facade and taking a few bricks with him. He coughed and tried to rise, then collapsed again. “And now all of your guard dogs are down for the count.”
Harrington laughed. Actually laughed. “I always loved your enthusiasm, Beckham.”
Beckham reached out to grasp Harrington, to end this whole thing, but Harrington was fast. Much faster than Beckham had been anticipating. He moved out of the way and gracefully stood back with his hands in his pockets.
“You’re missing something, Beckham,” Harrington said. “You haven’t quite realized that you’ve lost. If you fight against me, I’ll kill Reyna. If you fight against me, I’ll kill Bronwyn. If you fight against me, I’ll crush your little rebellion. Oh, wait, I already did that, for your insolence.”
“You can’t kill them if you’re dead,” Beckham said.
“I have a kill order on Bronwyn if anything happens to me. Both will be dead before you can do to me what you just did to Cassandra.”
Beckham snarled, but Reyna could see the moment Harrington’s words sank in. He had the upper hand. Somehow, Harrington had managed to outmaneuver them.
