Chapter 60
SIXTY
Harry
My chest feels like it’s caving in, a black hole sucking up every bit of air, every memory.
Gigi kneels beside me, her hand on my shoulder.
She’s whispering something, trying to comfort me, but her words are just noise, muffled by the roar in my ears.
I can feel her breath on my neck, her body pressed close.
“Harry.” Her croaked voice comes through the fog.
I feel her other hand on my cheek, turning my face towards her. Her eyes are red from crying, tears mixing with the grime on her face.
I want to lose myself in her, to let her pull me back from the edge, but the anger is too consuming.
Richard did this.
Andy is more than my best friend – he’s the brother I never had. And now … now his warm blood is seeping through my fingers as I keep pressure on his chest. His back arches, and he grits his teeth through the pain, pupils still fully blown.
I look at my bloodied hands, Hudson the opposite side of me, his face in tatters, and Gigi …
her brown hair matted to her temple, her throat stained purple with fingerprints again like a terrifying nightmare.
She’s weak, her breathing ragged. That wound on her waist has reopened, seeping blood onto her clothes.
I can’t just sit here.
I turn to Gigi slowly, the dark thought bottling in my chest. She kisses me knowingly, short and deep, pulling back to look into my eyes.
“Come back to me.”
Her voice is desperate, laced with that mix of fear and love that makes my gut twist.
She takes over, pressing her weight into the hands pressed on his chest. Andy cries out, eyes screwed shut, as the blood spills through her fingertips.
My legs are shaky as I stand, but the adrenaline kicks in, evaporating the pain of every wound.
I charge up the stairs in the direction Richard exited. Rain pours relentlessly as I burst through the door to the roof. The floor is slick, puddles forming in the craters of the concrete, the city lights blurring in the distance.
Richard stands at the edge of the roof.
He turns slowly, a smile toying on his lips as rain streams down his face. His eyes gleam with something twisted. He’s panting, his expensive suit soaked through, clinging to his frame.
Thunder cracks overhead.
Years of watching him tear apart everything good in our lives – the pain, the grief, every bruise Gigi was forced to hide … it all comes down to this. The man who pulled me from the edge; who taught me everything.
One of us isn’t making it off this roof.
“You think you can get away with this?”
“You really want to do this, Harry?” he calls out.
I can see the gun still in his hand, but he hasn’t raised it yet.
Maybe he’s waiting for me to move first, or maybe he’s just buying time.
I don’t give him the chance. I lunge at him, fist aimed at his face.
He steps back, swinging his arm up and clipping me with an elbow to the side of the head.
He follows with a shove that sends me stumbling on the slippery floor.
My shoes slide on the wet concrete, and I catch myself against the low wall to keep from going over. Richard laughs mockingly.
“You’re fast, kid, but all that anger’s gonna get you killed.”
I lunge at him before he can say another word, my fist connecting with his jaw in a crack that echoes through the storm. He staggers, the gun flying from his hand, skidding across the concrete.
“You think you’re tough?” he snarls, flashes of lightning illuminating his face. “I’ve been in fights like this since before you were born.”
I don’t answer – I just get to my feet and kick at him, aiming for his knee. He dodges, grabbing my leg, yanking hard to pull me off-balance. My back hits the roof, and he’s on me in a flash, his hands clamping round my throat.
“Always so emotional, just like you were back then. Weak, useless.” His fingers press to cut off my air, using his weight to keep me pinned. He’s not strong, but he’s experienced, trying to wrap his legs round my arms in an attempt to pin me. “I fixed you.”
I grunt, swinging blindly through the rain.
My knuckles graze his cheek, splitting skin and forcing his head back.
Blood pours down my face, and I taste the coppery tang as I shove him off.
We’re both on our knees now, breathing hard, the storm roaring round us.
Richard’s grinning through the blood on his lip.
We go down together in a tangle, rolling across the roof, fists flying. I land a solid hit to his ribs, feeling something crack under my knuckles. He gasps, his face contorting, but he fights back, wrapping his arm round my neck in a chokehold.
He hisses in my ear, “That little slut deserved so much worse than what she got—”
A rush of fury hits me in the chest, and I sink my teeth into his thigh, ripping out flesh. He bellows.
With a surge of strength, I bring my elbow down into his side, breaking from his grip. I gasp for air, the rain filling my lungs. I limp with the effort to stand, the soaring pain of every wound biting me with force.
I spit blood and flesh onto the floor. “You’re going to fucking die.”
Memories flood back – me as a scrawny kid, working endlessly to survive, trying to provide my brother with a home.
I charge again, grabbing Richard by the collar, slamming him against the low wall at the edge of the roof. His head snaps back, hitting the concrete with a thud.
We grapple, his hands clawing at my face, nails raking across my cheek.
I drive my knee into his stomach, wrapping my hands round his throat and squeezing with all my fury.
His eyes bulge, veins popping as he claws at my wrists.
I press harder, feeling the life drain from him, his struggles weakening.
Images of Andy flicker in my head, his body bleeding only a few floors below us.
Greg buried six feet under by Richard’s hands.
Gigi and every essence of sanity he took from her.
Christ, Poppy and even Hudson.
With a final surge, Richard twists violently, and we topple sideways.
We scramble to our feet, both of us battered and bleeding.
I sidestep as he charges, grabbing his arm, using his momentum to swing him towards the edge.
His feet slip on the wet surface, and for a split second, he’s teetering on the edge.
“I gave you everything!” Richard howls, righting his balance, wiping the blood from his lip. “Pulled you out of that shithole, and this is how you repay me?”
“No,” I say, blinking hard through the rain. “You deserve so much worse.”
A shadow stretches from the corner of the roof, bringing my attention over my shoulder to the figure standing there.
Jack steps forward slowly, casually, hands pressed deep into his jacket pockets. Even Richard turns, eyes widening in real, honest surprise – the first human emotion I’ve seen from him in years.
“J-Jack …?” he breathes.
Jack steps into the light, his face masked with a glacial hatred I know he’s half holding in.
“You’re …” Richard steps back, mere inches from plummeting to his death. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Yeah,” Jack says quietly. “You would’ve liked that.”
And then, without warning, without another word, he steps forward and presses his foot into Richard’s stomach. Jack shoves hard, putting all his weight behind the kick.
Time slows. Richard’s face is nothing but a blank sheet as realisation hits too late.
He topples over the low wall, his scream cut short as he plunges into the void below.
The sickening thud of his body splattering the concrete forces a shudder through me.
I stride to the edge, looking over the low wall and seeing the remnants of his vile body spread out in a mass across the floor.
Jack drags a gun from his waistband, drilling Richard with a round of shots just to be absolutely sure.
Holy fucking shit.
I stagger back, my knees giving out as I collapse onto the wet concrete. The storm rages on, but inside, the anger fades with his absence, leaving a hollow ache in my chest.
We finally killed him.
I turn my head over my shoulder slowly.
Jack turns to me, a faint smile touching his mouth as he tilts his head. “Still gonna kill me?”
“I’m thinking about it.” I look over at him, still reeling in shock. “You actually came.”
He shrugs. “I was in the neighbourhood.”
I cough a laugh, shaking my head, blood spatter marring the concrete. “And that was you? Your men were behind the gunfire?”
He lifts his shoulders again, a smirk forming fully.
We stand in the aftermath, taking it all in.
Fucking hell, we actually did it. I can actually breathe.
Barely.
But the girls are safe with Poppy. Gigi survived by the skin of her teeth. Hudson was breathing, the last I checked. Richard and his guards are dead. And Andy—
Alarms start to blare. Not the screeches from the fire but deeper, like a heavy beat.
Confusion washes over me as I rise to my feet, cold, dark realisation stopping me halfway as it settles in my bones.
Jack’s eyes meet mine with the same dawning fear, the unspoken truth lingering in the tense quiet.
Someone stronger is being brought in to take Richard’s place.