55. Dante
Dante
“O ne day, I’ll save you too.” She mouthed the same words she’d said to me ten years ago.
I had a feeling we’d all need saving to get out of here in anything but a body bag.
Why the hell was she here? She should have been safely tucked away in that goddamned hotel room with Wynter.
Fear gripped my throat as I saw the danger surrounding Juliette as she stood sandwiched between two of the men I could only hope to hell were Kian’s.
My pulse roared in my ears. Blood thumped through my veins.
I started moving, barreling through the men that separated me from her. I was prepared to destroy them all. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, fueling me to push forward. My fists wreaked havoc on every one of Sophia’s puppets who tried to get in my way.
I needed to get to her.
Plowing forward, I grabbed a hold of one man’s neck and twisted it until I heard the telltale crack . I watched his body slump onto the ground before moving on to the next one. Bullets rang. Kian and Basilio fought alongside me as we waded through the enemy—hitting, smashing, and destroying.
Blood coated my hands. My suit. My shoes.
Yelps and screams. Bones snapped. Necks broken. I was like a madman, fueled by sheer fear.
Until I reached Juliette.
The moment she was within my grasp, my heavy breathing eased, inhaling her sugarplum scent.
“Get in the circle,” Kian barked. “And shoot them all.”
“You good?” She nodded. “Give me your gun.” She shoved it at me along with a new ammo clip.
I didn’t hesitate. I shoved Juliette behind me as we circled her, our bodies creating a barrier that I could only hope would be enough to protect her. The shooting began, and while it felt like it went on for a long time, it couldn’t have been more than five minutes.
Bodies piled up. Blood soaked the ground and the walls.
Men started fleeing. Basilio was wounded.
Kian sported a few bruises. River’s breathing was irregular, but he remained calm.
Darius took a bullet to his shoulder, his left sleeve soaked in blood.
He must have given his Kevlar vest to Juliette. I’d owe him for life.
In one fluid motion, Juliette pushed her small body between me and Basilio, and before I could blink, she gave chase.
“Juliette!” I shouted, going after her as the rest of the crew shuffled behind, exhaustion and injury slowing them down.
My feet thundered against the ground, more footsteps behind me. Curses and grunts filled the air. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Basilio, Kian, and his men right behind us. A heavy steel door in front of us was ajar and Juliette shoved through it.
Why in the fuck was she chasing after them?
The door shut behind her and I cursed. I didn’t like having her out of my sight. I shoved through just in time to see her lunge for the last man, the one who moved the slowest.
“You motherfucker,” she hissed as she tackled him onto the ground. Jesus, she’d hit him like a linebacker. I watched as her fingers traveled down the man’s body, lower and lower until it wrapped around the cold steel of the gun and she wrenched it free from his trousers.
Other men aimed their guns at her, but before they could move, bullets sounded. From my gun. Basilio’s. All of ours. Men fell to the ground. But Juliette hadn’t pulled her trigger. She had it aimed against the back of the guy’s head, panting.
I let the other men keep an eye out for potential threats as I made my way to her. She didn’t look away from the man on the ground.
“You fucking bastard.” Her body was shaking but her hands were steady.
“Juliette,” I called out softly. She didn’t respond. What was it about this man that had her so worked up? I couldn’t see his face. The only thing I could see from the back of his head was that he was older. “Wildling, look at me.”
She didn’t. I put my hand on her shoulder and it was only then that she raised her eyes.
They were glazed. Fury and pain staring back at me.
It hit me right in the chest. It fucking hurt.
Worse than any beating I got from my mother.
Worse than seeing my little brother in pain. Worse than anything else.
I tugged on her and pulled her to her feet.
“Move and I’ll make your death agonizingly long and painful,” I told the man on the ground.
Juliette stood slowly, as if her limbs were too heavy.
Once on her feet, I pulled her back a couple of feet and said to the man on the ground, “Now turn around and get up.”
He did, and the moment he was on his back, I recognized him. My gaze shifted to my wife who kept her gun trained on him.
“Edward Murphy,” I stated in surprise. “Why are you working with Sophia Volkov?”
Ivy’s father betrayed the Cullens. Her best friend’s father. It was the information Kian had given her, although I wished he hadn’t. He should have given it to me to take care of it. I should have sheltered her from this pain. Protected her.
“Who else?” Juliette asked, her voice calm. Too calm. The old man didn’t answer and a shot pierced through the air. A bullet lodged itself into his knee. I didn’t stop her. She needed this. “Who fucking else?” she hissed.
The old man’s eyes locked on Juliette. Resigned. Tired. Old. “Just me.”
Juliette’s eyes darted to Kian. “His was the name in the envelope.”
A terse nod. She turned back to Ivy’s father. Bang .
Another shot. “Liar.” Her voice was cold. Her expression even colder. Hate consumed her now. She believed her friend betrayed her. “Fucking liar. I’m going to end your line, just like you wanted to end the Cullens.”
“Juliette,” I spoke softly.
I cupped her face and made her look at me. Tears glimmered in her gaze. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“My wife lost her life because of her,” Murphy stated, all the fighting seeming to have left him. “I had to protect my children.”
“What do you mean?” Jerking herself out of my grip, she shifted her focus on the old Murphy and got into his face. “You have sons. You are powerful. They are feared and ruthless. The Irish kings. And you are scared of Sofia Volkov?”
“You mean the Irish pricks,” I thought I heard Basilio mutter.
I ignored him, waiting for Murphy’s answer. A heartbeat passed. Heavy. Traitorous.
“I had to protect my family. Just like your family protected you.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded to know. “Your daughter lived with the Brennans while you schemed. You need to come clean or this won’t end well. For anyone.”
Edward growled, his eyes flashing with fury. “Don’t you dare touch them. They are innocent. Liana especially.”
I stilled. I thought the old Murphy only had one daughter. Glancing at Juliette, it was obvious she had the same thought.
“Who is Liana?” Juliette asked him eerily. When he made no move to answer, she got into his face. “Who. Is. Liana?”
“My other daughter.” Murphy’s tone was resigned. Tired. He knew his road had come to an end. “My illegitimate daughter.”
Well, fuck me. Goddamn secrets all around us.
Juliette shook her head, anger crossing her expression. “Does Ivy know?”
He gulped. “She doesn’t.”
“You could have asked for help,” she hissed, her breathing harsh. “You could have said something!”
“Aye, I could have,” he admitted. “But I didn’t.”
Juliette swallowed and raised her hand. “You’re only getting a fast death for Ivy’s sake.”
Then she pulled the trigger.