Chapter Thirty-Three
Seth’s world slowed. His thundering heart echoed in his ears.
Suddenly, someone rammed him from the side, shoving him hard. He crashed to the floor as the gun went off—the crack deafening in the enclosed space.
Heavenly’s blood-piercing scream reverberated deep into Seth’s bones. His mother yelped.
Hudson screamed, “No!”
Heart in his throat, Seth snapped his head up to see Beck panting and ghost-white where he’d been standing a split second ago.
He fucking saved my life.
He took in Beck’s ashen face as he swayed on his feet. His hand was still pressed to his blood-soaked shoulder, but his eyes—his eyes were locked on Gene with pure, unyielding fury.
Then Beck’s knees suddenly buckled. He dropped hard, catching himself with one hand on the floor. His breathing was ragged and shallow. He looked seconds from passing out.
Seth raised his weapon and aimed it squarely at Gene’s skull as he leapt to his feet, voice dropping to lethal tones. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
As Heavenly raced to Beck’s side, Nik and Matt lunged forward in tandem, slamming Gene back down. Nik wrenched the small pistol from his hand with a savage twist, then shoved the barrel of his own gun against Gene’s temple.
Matt pressed his knee into Gene’s chest, pinning him. “Stay down, you piece of shit.”
Gene didn’t fight, just glared up at them, his breathing harsh, his face twisted with rage and defeat.
The bastard was finally, totally done.
Seth kept his gun trained on Gene, fury and frustration warring in his chest, silently admonishing himself for failing to search Gene.
He, Matt, and Nik were professionals; they fucking knew better.
But the relief of finding his family alive distracted him.
And Gene had done what he did best, taken advantage of the moment.
Even in defeat, the lapse had almost cost Seth his life.
It would have, if not for Beck.
Seth’s throat tightened. His eyes burned as he turned.
Despite barely being able to stand, Beck had pushed him out of the way—thrown himself between Seth and Gene’s bullet. He could have died saving him.
Over their shared love of Heavenly, he and Beck had built a solid foundation of commitment. But now?
Their brotherhood was unbreakable.
“Beck,” Heavenly pleaded. “You need to sit. Let’s get you to the couch.”
“Give me a minute, little girl,” he murmured. “Lemme catch my breath.”
Seth wanted to rail at the man—tell him he was a goddamn idiot for risking his life. But thankfully, there’d be time for that later.
Seth swallowed hard and rasped, “Thank you, man. I owe you…everything.”
Beck lifted his head slightly and managed a weak smile. “I told you not to fucking die.”
It was completely out of place, but Seth laughed. “You did. Guess I need to learn to listen.”
Suddenly, his mother rushed over, sinking to her knees beside Beck. Tears streamed down her face as she carefully touched his uninjured arm.
“You saved my son.” Her voice broke as she cupped his face, her expression both fierce and tender. “You saved his life! You’re truly a Cooper…now and forever.” Her voice softened. “If you want, you can call me Mom, too.”
Seth’s chest constricted so hard he thought it might cave in.
His mother—his traditional, Catholic mother—had just claimed Beck as her son. Not in theory. Not out of obligation for his role in Seth’s and Heavenly’s lives.
But because she’d chosen him with her heart.
Seth blinked hard, his throat too tight to speak. He met Beck’s gaze across the room. The surgeon’s eyes were glassy, his expression stunned.
“I’d be honored,” Beck said, his voice rough.
Grace pulled him into a careful embrace, mindful of his injuries, as Heavenly wiped tears from her cheeks. Beck sagged against his mom, his face slightly crumpled before he pulled himself together.
Seth looked away, giving them the moment. His hand was still steady on his gun, his eyes locked on Gene.
The bastard wasn’t getting another chance to get away. Justice had come for the son of a bitch, and Seth had appointed himself judge, jury, and executioner.
He let the sounds of his family fade behind him. What waited in front of him was unfinished business.
He turned his focus on Gene, his voice cutting through the room like a machete. “Matt. Nik. Pat that motherfucker down. Every inch. I want to know if he’s hiding so much as a fucking toothpick.”
Matt dropped to one knee. As he began running his hands over Gene’s legs, the prick thrashed and kicked at him.
Nik growled and put a boot on Gene’s forehead, pinning the asshole into place.
When Matt started skimming his torso, Nik flashed a taunting smile and aimed his gun straight at Gene’s face. The prick glared, but didn’t dare move.
“Clean,” Matt said finally, stepping back.
“Thank you.” Seth turned back to the other men in the room. “Carl. Hudson. Take the women upstairs. Lock the door and turn on some music.”
His son looked confused. “Music?”
Seth nodded. “Loudly.”
Understanding crossed Carl’s face. “On it.”
“Hold up,” Seth called out, glancing at Nik. “He needs a gun. Got an extra?”
The Russian didn’t hesitate. He reached behind his back and produced a Glock 43, offering it to Carl grip-first. “Is loaded. No safety. Point. Shoot.”
Carl gripped the weapon, with a nod. “Thanks.”
Nik inclined his head.
Seth nodded at his son, then told Carl, “If anyone other than me, Matt, or Nik comes through that door upstairs, kill them. No questions asked. Clear?”
“Absolutely,” Carl assured. “Come on, everyone. Let’s go.”
Hudson started to protest, but Heavenly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and shook her head, guiding him toward the stairs.
But Seth’s mom stood like a statue, her furious gaze locked on Gene. Finally, she addressed Seth. “What are you going to do?”
He swallowed tightly. When he’d gone dark and disappeared for a year, she’d never once asked where he’d been or what he’d been doing. Had any of those questions rolled off her lips, he would have lied and taken all the sins he’d committed to his grave.
Now she was asking for the dark truth.
This time, Seth refused to lie.
“As long as Gene is alive, he’ll put his criminal enterprise over his badge and keep killing.
He murdered Dad to protect his operation.
He murdered Autumn and Tristan to cut me off at the knees.
He tried to have me killed this morning to silence me.
He took you and the people we love hostage an hour ago.
” Seth’s jaw tightened. His nostrils flared.
“He even tried to end me after being subdued. As long as he’s breathing, he’ll keep killing.
So I’m going to do what needs to be done. ”
His mother’s lips trembled. Tears filled her eyes. But her voice didn’t waver. “Send him to hell.”
Seth blinked, stunned.
His devout, Catholic mother—who prayed the rosary daily, who believed in forgiveness and God’s will—had just given him permission to execute a man.
Gaze fierce, she stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm. “He doesn’t deserve your mercy, Seth. He deserves your justice.”
Seth’s throat tightened. He nodded once, unable to speak.
She squeezed his arm, then turned toward Carl, who stood waiting at the foot of the stairs with Hudson and Heavenly.
His angel’s face was pale, her blue eyes wide and tear-filled. She looked terrified—not of Seth, but for him. For what he was about to do. For what it might cost him.
He held her gaze, but didn’t speak. He let his face tell her what she needed to know.
When this is over, I’m coming for you.
She didn’t ask questions, just pressed her lips together and nodded. Then, with her heart in her eyes, she sent him one last look before turning away.
Clutching the gun in his hand, Carl rushed everyone upstairs. When they reached the top of the landing, Seth winced. “Wait! Mom, maybe you should, um…toss down some towels.”
“Nyet,” Nik insisted, holding up a hand. “I have plastic sheet in car.”
Seth turned to him, one brow raised. “Of course you do.”
Nik shrugged. “Much cheaper than cleaning crew.”
Despite everything, Seth almost smiled, then hollered up the stairs, “Never mind. We got this.”
As Nik pulled out his phone and typed a quick message, Seth watched Carl usher everyone inside the master bedroom. Then, with a nod Seth’s way, he closed and locked the door.
Less than a minute later, one of Nik’s dangerous, tattooed henchmen stepped through what was left of the splintered front door. He silently strolled into the room carrying a neatly folded, dark blue industrial tarp and handed it to Nik before disappearing outside again.
Matt grabbed one end of the plastic. Nik took the other. Together, they spread it across the living room floor.
Seth turned to Gene. “On the tarp. Face up.”
Gene didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just glared.
Seth bent, muscles flexing and burning, as he grabbed the shitbag by the collar and tossed him onto the plastic. Gene landed hard on his back, the air punching out of his lungs in a grunt.
Seth, Matt, Nik, and Beck stepped in close, forming an inescapable circle around him, glaring at the monster.
Gene’s chest rose and fell in labored breaths. Calculating and desperate, his stare darted around the four men hovering over him.
He knew he was trapped.
“So this is it? You’re just going to kill me in cold blood?” Gene let out a bitter laugh. “You’re no different than me.”
Seth crouched, bringing himself eye-level with the bastard.
His voice was cold. Controlled. “Oh, I am. The difference is, I protect people. You take advantage of them.” He paused for a moment to let his words sink in before an icy smile tugged his lips.
“I haven’t read it all, but I’m pretty sure I have enough evidence to send you and all your corrupt buddies to prison for life.
All those dirty cops—especially a high-ranking detective like you—won’t fare well among the criminals they’ve incarcerated over the years.
Then again, being ass-raped is too good for you. ”
Nik leaned in, his shadow falling across Gene’s face. He flashed an ugly smile. “I have many associates in prison. I make sure they take good care of you.”
Gene’s jaw clenched. His breathing quickened. For the first time, real fear flickered in his eyes.
“Just kill me,” he ground out through gritted teeth.
Seth straightened slowly. He looked at Matt.
His brother’s face was hard, his jaw clenched so tightly it ticked. He’d been silent through all of this—watching, waiting. But Seth saw it in his eyes. The same grief. The same rage.
Matt had suffered when they’d lost their father, too.
Seth nodded his brother’s way.
Like lightning, Matt moved in. He kicked Gene in the ribs. The crooked cop grunted, rolling onto his belly with the force of the blow.
Then Matt lifted his boot and brought it down on the back of Gene’s head, slamming his face against the hardwoods and breaking his nose with a sickening crack.
Gene howled.
Matt stepped back, his chest heaving, his jaw still clenched. No doubt, he had more liquid violence thrumming through his veins, but he stepped back and nodded Seth’s way.
Seth crouched again, this time beside Gene’s head. The bastard was wheezing now, blood and spit pooling on the plastic beneath him.
“Beg me,” Seth said quietly.
Gene’s breath hitched.
“You made my dad beg, didn’t you?” Seth’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Made him beg for his life? For his family? Before you put a bullet in his skull?”
Gene turned his head just enough to meet Seth’s eyes. Blood smeared his teeth when he smiled. “Fuck you.”
Seth didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.
He rose to his full height, pulled the gun from his waistband, and aimed it at the back of Gene’s head.
“No,” Seth said, his voice arctic and brittle. “Fuck you.”
He settled his boot between Gene’s shoulder blades, pressing down just enough to feel the bastard’s ribs shift beneath his weight.
In his mind’s eye, he saw his father—laughing at the dinner table, tossing a baseball in the backyard, ruffling Seth’s hair. He saw Autumn, radiant and beautiful, her hand resting on her swollen belly. He saw baby Tristan, tiny and perfect, his fingers wrapped around Seth’s thumb.
This is for you, he thought. All of you.
The room went utterly quiet.
Nothing moved.
No one spoke.
Seth squeezed the trigger.
Once.
Twice.
The shots cracked through the air, sharp and final.
Seth didn’t look down. Didn’t need to.
The bastard who’d destroyed his family was dead.
Seth lowered his weapon, his hand steady, his breathing even as he heard the bedroom door upstairs burst open.
Quickly, Seth gestured to Matt and Nik, who flipped the sides of the tarp over Gene’s body, concealing the gore from view.
Satisfied, Seth turned his back on the scene, tucked the gun out of sight, and slung an arm around Beck’s waist. The surgeon bit back a grimace and shuffled as Seth helped him across the family room.
Then Heavenly appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide and searching. The instant she caught sight of her men, whole and alive, relief smoothed the fear from her face.
She raced down the stairs toward them, her blinding smile filling Seth’s heart with love.
Tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, Heavenly bounded off the last step and flung herself at them, wrapping them both in a warm embrace.
She didn’t say a word, simply cupped their cheeks—as if making sure they were alive and real—and stared into their eyes before peppering their faces with watery kisses.
Seth closed his eyes and hugged them both tighter.
His past was truly behind him now.
Whatever came next would be the life he’d fought to live—with the people he loved.