I cross the room slowly, wiping my gun with a handkerchief before setting it down on the table. The sound of metal against wood echoes louder than it should.
My men rush inside to move bodies and bullets, painting the scene the way I need it to be.
“I’ll be outside in five minutes, Chester,” I say. “You and the men need to give me some time alone with Mr. Banks.”
“As you wish.”
They disappear through the side door, which slams shut behind them like a period at the end of a sentence.
Rush is wounded but conscious. Bleeding but far from dead. If someone called an ambulance, he’d be in and out of surgery within the hour—and back to orchestrating chaos by morning.
“Mister Edward Rochester,” he says, lips split, blood trickling down his chin. “Nice to see you.”
“I’ll never be able to say the same.”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man elude me for so long,” he muses. “Your layers of protection always fascinated me. You fascinate me.”
“Again,” I say. “I’ll never be able to say the same.”
He laughs through a wince and places a bloodied hand against his chest.
“Hit me right here. I think that would be quite fitting.”
I glance at the other man—barely conscious, barely worth sparing.
I lift my second gun and fire four rounds into his chest, silencing him for good.
Rush watches without flinching.
“Cost of the game,” he murmurs. “I’m very impressed with you, for what it’s worth.”
“You don’t need to talk to die,” I say, stepping closer. “Silence is best.”
“I shot your mom right here.” He taps the same spot on his chest. “Two holes in her heart. Sorry I had to do that. She seemed like a nice woman.”
I don’t respond.
My finger hovers over the trigger.
“Your father begged me not to kill her—or anyone else,” he continues, voice softening like it’s supposed to mean something. “He said, ‘Just take me. Just take me.’”
“I remember.”
“Where exactly were you hiding?” He spits blood onto the floor. “I’ve always wanted to know.”
“Safe room.”
“It must have been devastating... hearing your entire family die from behind a wall,” he says. “Almost as painful as realizing I somehow missed one—the smart one.”
“Flattery won’t save you today.”
“I’m betting on that. I’m just filling time until you pull the trigger—if you’ll pull the trigger.”
Trust me, I will…“I’m just waiting for something.”
His brow lifts at the same time sirens wail in the distance. Red and blue lights flicker across the windows, painting the walls in waves of consequence.
“Hurry up, Ryder,” he says. “I’m ready to see my men on the other side.”
