Chapter Three Daniel
Chapter Three
Daniel
"He's really… dead." Her voice is soft, trembling as she looks up at me with tear-filled eyes.
The blood-soaked scarf in her hands speaks volumes, but it’s her expression that stops me. Grief. Real, raw grief.
Hayden and I? We don’t cry for any of our men, no matter what happens. Even if we were both close to Roy, we still don’t.
He was our guy, sure. A good friend, as well.
But we’ve learned to push that shit aside a long time ago. It’s how we survive. If someone saw us cry over a dead man, our enemies would know how to get to us. We can’t let that happen.
But her? She doesn’t hold back. And I admire that.
I admire her ability to feel, to let her emotions spill out instead of burying them beneath layers of control. It’s something I haven’t done in years.
“Well,” I begin, trying to ground myself in the moment. “You did your best. And we’re truly grateful for that.” My tone is clipped, final.
But she hesitates, her hands still shaking.
"I just..." Her voice cracks, but she pushes forward. "Who do you think shot him? It’s not like people get shot here every day, right? I just wonder—"
Hayden cuts her off. “You don’t need the answer to that.” His tone is sharp, but I’m grateful. This woman—sweet as she may seem—talks too much.
Maybe it’s the shock setting in. Wouldn’t surprise me.
“The point is, he’s dead,” I state quietly, glancing at Roy’s lifeless body. “That’s the only information we need. Ignore everything else.”
It’s not that I don’t feel bad for the guy—I do. He was a good man. Loyal. But not good enough.
You can’t survive in our world if you can’t handle the heat. Roy wasn’t built for this. I keep telling myself that, over and over again. Maybe it’s to make myself feel better. Maybe it’s how I cope.
Because deep down, I know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have let him lead us today. I knew splitting up was a bad idea, but I didn’t stop him. I wanted him to learn through his mistakes, just like I did.
And now? Now he’s fucking dead.
And I hate it. I hate that I can’t change a damn thing about what happened. But what I hate even more is the goddamn realization that hit me — the realization that what I called learning from my mistakes back then was really just a nicer way of saying I almost died… and survived by sheer dumb luck.
I sigh, breaking the silence that’s pressing down on all of us like a weight. As I realize that she seems steady, I let go of her. “Alright then. Thank you for helping us.” Or, well, trying to.
She looks at me, her pale face streaked with tears.
Our eyes meet—hers tear-filled, mine trying to stay professional.
Trying not to act irrationally. Trying to handle the situation instead of comforting a woman I barely just met.
For a moment, I think she might say something to me, but instead, she simply nods weakly.
“Hayden,” I call over my shoulder. “Help me get him out of here.”
Hayden frowns. “We don’t do that, Dan. It’s not our fucking job.”
I grit my teeth, irritation flaring. I try to keep my cool when I’m with him, but I also need him to know that acting up isn’t something I’ll allow him to do.
He might be my best friend, but he’s also my fucking underboss. And he’s supposed to do what he’s being told.
Or else—he's as useless as anyone who doesn't listen.
“So? You want to wait for the cops to find him first? You think they’ll believe we didn’t kill him? Stop complaining and do as you’re told.”
At the word ‘kill,’ she looks up, her voice a shaky whisper. Her eyes give off uncertainty, most likely because she’s worried about talking to me.
I’m not surprised. I sounded pretty harsh. And fuck, I feel bad for her. I wish she wouldn’t be here. I wish she wouldn’t hear all of this.
“But you said you didn’t—”
“We didn’t,” I cut her off, sharper than I intended.
“But they don’t care. They’ve tried to pin shit on us before, and it almost worked. I’m not letting that happen again. Not after we lost a man.”
Her eyes widen, and for once, she goes quiet. Good. She really doesn’t need to know more. Because we don’t want her to, and because it’d only put her in danger.
Hayden exhales heavily, relenting. “Fine, let’s do this. But you owe me.”
Together, we lift Roy’s body, his weight heavier than I expected. Blood drips onto the pavement, but I force myself not to look down. Not to think about it. It’s not your fault. It’s theirs.
She watches us the whole time, her wide, tear-streaked eyes locked on me. There’s something about her gaze—so soft, so desperate—that makes my chest tighten.
Normally, I wouldn’t care. Comforting people isn’t in my nature. But this woman? She’s different. Too sweet to leave here in a crumpled heap of guilt and tears.
As Hayden continues to carry Roy to the car parked a few streets away, her quiet sobs pull me back to reality.
My gaze wanders back at her, seeing her down on the floor again. I sigh as I kneel beside her, my hand hesitating before resting gently on her back.
“I’ve never failed before,” she chokes out between sobs. The words hit me harder than I expected. What exactly does she mean by that? “It’s not your fault,” I mutter awkwardly, trying to sound reassuring, though I know I’m terrible at this. Fuck, I can’t even believe myself.
“I could’ve saved him,” she whispers. She’s not entirely wrong. A shot just below the ribs—it’s possibly survivable.
If we’d had medical supplies, if we’d gotten help faster... maybe. But that “maybe” doesn’t change the fact that Roy is dead.
“You did everything you could,” I tell her, though the words feel hollow. Vacant.
Her scarf is still soaked in his blood, her hands trembling as she looks down at it.
This woman—a stranger—tried harder to save Roy than some of our own men ever would have.
And that’s when it truly hits me. I can’t let her go. Fuck. I shouldn’t let my guard down like this anymore in the future. Both Hayden and I should be more aware of our surroundings, so we don’t get caught anymore.
It never happened before, but fuck, once is more than enough.
She’s seen too much. The body, the blood, us. If she talks, we’re done for. My whole family would be.
I can’t let that happen. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
“Listen,” I say softly. Her tear-streaked face tilts up toward me, and those wide eyes lock onto mine like deep pools of cold ocean water—endless and stormy.
God. Her sky-blue eyes pierce right through me, pulling my mind into their depths until everything else fades away… What the hell?
“I need you to come with us,” I say. Her eyes widen, the ocean in them churning.
“But…Why?”
“Don’t worry, pretty.” The nickname slips out before I can stop it. You dumb fuck, focus on the situation.
“It won’t be for long. Just... we need your help with him, see?” It’s a lie. A fucking dumb lie.
Her brow furrows, confusion mingling with fear. It doesn’t surprise me. My words are fucking stupid.
“What kind of help are you talking about? I killed him. I let him die. What’d you need my help for?”
“You didn’t kill anyone,” I say firmly, trying to reassure her.
“They did. But we need you to come with us, alright? We need to… Discuss a few things. You shouldn’t take this kind of trauma lightly.”
She hesitates, glancing back at Roy’s blood on the floor. “I... I need to be home later. My daughter... she’s in preschool. I have to pick her up, and her Nanny… I just… It’s too much. I can’t just leave.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Daughter? She has a kid. Fuck. My mind races. Alright, brain. Two options.
One, I let her go, but if she talks, everything we’ve built is at risk. Two, I can’t just take her away from her daughter, so she’ll have to come with us.
I’m fucking stupid. Option two is the only one I can go for. I’m not insane, and I’m not risking my family’s downfall for a woman I just met.
“Don’t worry,” I lie, forcing a smile. “You’ll be home in time.”
She won’t be. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that. Not yet. For now, I just need to figure out how to keep her—and her daughter—safe.
Because no matter what, I won’t hurt her. I won’t hurt an innocent woman. That’s not who we are.
We do plenty of messed-up shit, but we have our limits. No women. No kids. No people who don’t deserve what we give them.
I’ll find a solution. I have to. I always do. I’m the boss here. It’s my job, after all.