Chapter Thirty-Four
KILLIAN
I t had been an hour since I left Tris.
I slumped on a stool at my home bar and gulped another sip of the whiskey in my glass.
I should’ve known that she’d choose Peter. How could I have expected to compete with her obsessive love for him that spanned two decades? My two short days with her were a blink of an eye when you compared the two. In the moment when she chose me, she’d seemed so sure, all in, but the second Peter snapped his fingers, she jumped.
Just like last time.
Just like every time.
I stared at the bottom of my glass, watching the potent liquid swirl.
She chose Peter. A fresh wave of pain hit with a surprising force. I knocked back the rest of my whiskey, relishing the burn as it slid down my throat. It was fitting, really. The burn in my chest, the inferno in my veins—it all matched the chaos erupting in my head.
My phone buzzed on the bartop beside me. Judd’s name flashed across the screen. I considered ignoring it, but after a moment’s hesitation, I picked up.
“Yeah?” My voice was rough.
“You okay?”
“Peachy.”
“Oooo-kay.” He drew out the syllables of the word. “I hate to ask this. I know you said you weren’t ready to jump back in, but we’ve heard chatter of movement. Nikol Petrosian, the guy we’ve been looking for who escaped, is here in Rhode Island. I?—”
Nothingness enveloped me. Judd’s request lit the tiniest ember of feeling in my body.
One that felt reckless.
On edge.
One that craved something to make me feel again.
Adrenaline surged through me, popping and bubbling like the finest champagne.
This was exactly what I needed to stop fucking thinking about Trissa. “I’m in. What do you need me to do?”
Silence filled the air between us.
“What?” I asked.
“That just seemed way too easy. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. All you need to concern yourself with is that I’m all in.” I needed the danger of another mission to forget about Tris and the fact that my world was crumbling around me.
Again.
A shit show of my own making.
“I need you in the right headspace for this. I’m not risking your life to nab this fucker.” Judd was a good guy. Far better than me.
I heard the sound of my elevator. What the fuck? “Hold on a sec.”
The doors opened to reveal Jack’s smiling face and his arms full with a case of beer. “Took down one of the linesmen last night and earned myself a meeting with the commissioner. Probably a long-term suspension. Want to day-drink with me?”
I chuckled and held up a finger telling Jack to wait.
This was perfect. “I’m in the right headspace, Judd. And even if I wasn’t, I’ll bring Jack with me. He can keep me in check.”
“Jack? He’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll only make the situation worse. Do I need to remind you we’re dealing with dangerous people here?”
“It’ll be fine. Send me the info and where to meet.” I ignored his worried tone. This mission was exactly what I needed.
“On the record, I’m saying this is a bad idea, but fuck, I need you to jump in right now. You’re the only one with a personal connection. And we can’t lose this guy. If he goes underground again, we might not have another chance.”
“I’m good to go.” I poured myself and Jack a drink from my bar.
Jack set the beer down and headed straight for me with his long strides. I handed him the glass and he slung back the entire contents in one gulp.
“What about Trissa?” Judd asked hesitantly.
“What about her?” I growled back.
Judd, being a smart man, didn’t say another word about Tris. A few seconds later my phone pinged with the information I needed.
“Got it.”
“We going to fuck some shit up?” Jack asked, his grin fully in place.
“Something like that.” I was more than ready to burn off the feelings of rejection and regret.
Judd buzzed in my ear again with another warning. “Killian, I need you to be sure you can do this.”
“Just trust me, Judd. I know exactly what kind of game we’re playing. Jack’s in. He’ll be useful.”
Before Judd could argue further, I hung up and downed my fresh drink in one go then filled Jack in about what I’d been up to and what Judd expected from us. As I stood, the warmth spread through my chest and I steeled myself to be the reckless playboy once more.
I had a job to do; a role to play.
And if I was going to go off the rails, well, that was exactly what this operation needed.
The out-of-the-way restaurant was dimly lit, its air thick with tension and the acrid smell of cigarette smoke. I leaned against the hostess station, trying to appear casual even as every muscle in my body was coiled tight, ready to spring into action.
Jack stood beside me, a dangerous glint in his eyes that I recognized all too well. It was the same look he got before a big game, when the crowd’s roar was deafening and the pressure was at its peak. But this wasn’t a hockey rink, and the stakes were far higher than any championship.
“You sure about this, Killian?” Jack’s voice was low, barely audible over the ambient noise of the minimal staff moving around the small dining area. “We can still walk away.”
I was surprised to hear him offer that option. Jack had no fear, so maybe he wasn’t sure I was ready to handle this. Jack was an asshole, but he took care of his own.
I shook my head, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of our target. “No turning back now,” I muttered. “Besides, since when do you back down from a fight?”
Jack’s laugh was sharp and quick. “Fair point. Just remember, I’ve got your back. Always have, always will.”
His words should have been comforting, but they only served to remind me of another promise, another always that had turned out to be a lie. Not that Tris had verbally promised me anything, but after the other night I thought it had been understood. I pushed the thought away, needing to focus on the task at hand.
“So what’s going on with you and Tris?” Jack asked.
I should’ve known he’d sense there was more to me agreeing to help Judd.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What did she do?”
“You have to ask?”
“I fucking hate her,” Jack seethed.
Before I could respond, the heavy door in the entryway opened in front of us.
I straightened.
This was it. The moment we’d been waiting for.
Flanked by two burly bodyguards, a man in an expensive suit strode into view. Nikol Petrosian, the drug lord we’d been tracking for months. His eyes, cold and calculating, met mine.
Son of a bitch! He was the same guy I’d met on my yacht weeks ago. The one that tried to pass himself off as a soldier.
“Mr. Hook,” he said, his voice smooth as silk but with an underlying edge that sent a chill down my spine. “I must admit, I was surprised to receive your invitation after our last encounter.”
I forced a smirk, channeling my frustration and anger into the persona I’d created as his men searched both me and Jack for weapons. “Well, Mr. Petrosian, I wanted to personally apologize for what happened then and make sure it didn’t ruin our business relationship.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained in place. “I hope you understand that in my line of work, trust is a rare commodity. How do I know you’re not … playing for the other team?”
My heart rate spiked, and I wanted to grin, but I kept my expression neutral. “Fair question,” I said nodding to Jack. “That’s why I brought along a character witness. I’m sure you recognize Jack Finn?”
Petrosian’s eyebrows rose just a touch as he took in Jack’s imposing figure. “The hockey player? Interesting company you keep, Mr. Hook.”
Jack stepped forward, his grin all teeth and no warmth. “Killian and I go way back. And let’s just say, I owe him a favor or two. When he said he needed some muscle for a business meeting, well, how could I refuse?” Jack was laying on the television drama mafia role a little thick.
I could see the wheel’s turning in Petrosian’s head. An NHL superstar involved in his operation? I’d seen the same gleam in the eyes of the guy I first spoke with when I started down this path. The potential for blackmail, for leverage, was too good to pass up.
“Very well,” Petrosian said after a moment. “Let’s talk business.”
As we moved to the back of the restaurant and sat at a table, I caught Judd’s whisper across my ear piece. “Stay steady. You’re just there to meet him. Keep him busy so we can get in place.”
So far, everything was going according to plan.
The negotiations were tense, a delicate dance of half-truths and implied threats. I played my part, letting my natural edge and the lingering effects of the whiskey fuel my performance. Jack, to his credit, was the perfect wild card, his unpredictable energy keeping Petrosian and his men on edge.
But as the meeting wore on, I began to sense things starting to unravel. Maybe it was the way Petrosian’s eyes kept darting to the door, or the increasing frequency to which his bodyguards were checking their phones.
Something was off.
A muscle in Petrosian’s jaw twitched—the first genuine tell from a man who’d maintained perfect composure until now. He leaned forward, fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on the table. The movement sent the overhead light glinting across his signet ring, briefly illuminating the embedded ruby like a drop of blood.
“You come highly recommended, Killian,” he said, his voice smooth despite the sudden tension radiating from him. “But after that last incident on your yacht, I’m reconsidering our arrangement.”
Jack laughed then—that reckless, broken sound that never failed to set my teeth on edge. The wrong laugh at precisely the wrong moment.
Fuck.
“Something funny?” Petrosian’s underboss—Dima—straightened from his position against the wall. His hand drifted toward the bulge beneath his tailored jacket.
“Just thinking about how much bullshit we’ve all been shoveling in the last hour,” Jack replied. His eyes, when they met mine, held a warning I couldn’t quite decipher. “Gets exhausting doesn’t it?”
The room temperature dropped ten degrees. I struggled to keep my expression neutral, and fought the desire to curl my fist.
“What my associate means,” I began, but Petrosian cut me off with a raised hand.
“Your associate should watch his mouth.” His accent thickened with anger, his consonants pronounced and sharp enough to break glass. “And you, Mr. Hook, should consider your words carefully.”
The bodyguard near the door’s phone received a text; it’s buzz echoing in the room. His face hardened as he read it. He left his post to join us and whispered something to Petrosian, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Actually,” Petrosian continued, reaching for his drink with deliberate slowness, “I’m curious about something. That operation on your yacht last month—terrible business, three of my men arrested. Very unusual, how the authorities knew exactly where to look and when.” He took a sip, eyes never leaving mine.
The statement hung in the air.
Behind Petrosian, the second bodyguard shifted position, angling for a clearer line of sight at Jack.
I forced a casual shrug while my mind raced.
Jack shifted at my side, likely debating whether to get physical or not.
Don’t do it, Jack. Not yet.
“I was just as surprised by what happened as you were.” I held his gaze with a confidence I no longer felt.
Petrosian’s smile never reached his eyes. “You know what I think, Mr. Hook?” He nodded to someone behind me. “I think we’re done here,” Petrosian said abruptly, standing. “Mr. Hook, while your offer is intriguing to continue our partnership, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
Alarm bells went off in my head. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
We needed more time, more information.
“Now hold on,” I said, rising to my feet. “We haven’t even discussed?—”
The click of more than one gun being cocked cut me off mid-sentence. One of Nikol Petrosian’s bodyguards trained his weapon on me, while the other eyed Jack warily.
“I said, we’re done,” Petrosian repeated, his voice hard. “Did you really think I wouldn’t do my homework, Mr. Hook? Or know who you associate with?”
Shit. We’d been made.
Jack, living up to his reputation as a loose cannon, lunged at the nearest bodyguard. I dove for cover as gunshots rang out, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
The first bullet shattered a wine glass three inches from my head, sending crimson liquid and crystal shards spraying across the white table cloth. The second tore through the fake leather seat where I’d been sitting a heartbeat earlier.
“We know you’ve been working for the DEA,” Dima roared, overturning the heavy oak table for cover.
The restaurant erupted in chaos—screams from the employees, the crash of dishes hitting the floor, the percussion of steady gunfire.
I rolled behind an overturned serving cart, wishing I could have carried a weapon, but I was lucky they didn’t find my earpiece.
Through the haze of gunsmoke, I caught glimpses of Jack. He’d somehow disarmed one of Petrosian’s men and was using him as a human shield, the bodyguard’s neck trapped in the crook of Jack’s elbow. Blood streamed down from a gash above Jack’s eye, but he was grinning that crazy smile of his—the one that meant he was riding high on the knife-edge between control and chaos.
“Killian!” Jack shouted. “Ten o’clock.”
I swiveled just in time to see one of Petrosian’s men flanking me, pistol raised. I ducked just in time.
Tris’s beautiful face flashed through my mind. Her disappointment in me palpable.
What the fuck was I doing?
I should be fighting for her.
I should have been fighting for us all along.
Instead, I was pinned down by hubris and my stupid demons. Demons I should have dealt with a long time ago.
A bullet punched through the cart beside me, spraying splinters across my cheek. The sharp sting of the wood snapped me back to reality.
I’d walked away from her last time and it broke my heart. This time I’d be breaking hers if I didn’t make it out of here alive. I hated that our last interaction had been one of anger.
I needed to get a better control of my fucking emotions. Tris deserved so much more.
Through the kitchen doorway, I spotted movement—Petrosian barked out orders at two bodyguards. They were headed for the service exit.
“Jack!” I called out. “Petrosian’s running.”
“Go!” Jack shouted. “I’m good.”
Judd’s voice cracked through my earpiece. “We’re entering the building now.”
“Cover’s blown. Jack’s engaged. Petrosian is making a break for it—the east service corridor. I’m heading out after him.”
“Stand down Killian. We’ve got this.”
I sprinted after Petrosian. My cover was blown. If he got away, he could use Tris to get to me and there was no way in hell I’d let that happen. I ignored Judd’s yell to stand down. I couldn’t let Petrosian get away.
I burst through the door into a narrow alley, just in time to see Petrosian rounding the corner. I pushed myself harder, my lungs burning as I gained on him.
My arm extended, finger grazing his coat jacket. I was close. I pushed harder, forcing my legs to move at an impossible speed. I couldn’t let him get away. Not when he could go after Tris.
His body turned.
Stars exploded in my vision, pain radiating through the side of my head and the arm I threw up at the last minute. I stumbled, crashing into a stack of pallets. My head pounded, eyesight blurred as I looked up at Petrosian standing over me with a metal pipe in his hand. Where the fuck had he gotten that?
I cradled my arm against my chest.
“You should have stuck to the stage, Rockstar,” he sneered, raising the pipe for another strike.
I braced myself for the impact.
My mind once again flashing a picture of Tris across my vision.
Fuck.
It was too late to go back. It was too late for regret. It was too late to apologize and tell her I was a fucking idiot.
This was it.
Instead of the hit I’d expected, there was a blur of motion, and suddenly Jack was there, tackling Nikol Petrosian to the ground.
The world spun as I tried to get to my feet, my head throbbing in time with my racing heart. The sirens in the distance grew louder by the second.
“Killian!” Judd’s voice cut through the chaos. He appeared by my side, his face a mask of fury and concern. “What the hell were you thinking?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me shaky and nauseous. I leaned heavily against the wall, blinking against the blinding sunlight, watching as more officers swarmed the alley, securing Petrosian and his men.
Jack made his way over to me, a wild grin on his face despite his split lip and the way he was favoring his right side. “Now that,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder, “was one hell of a game.”
I groaned and then couldn’t help but laugh, even though it made my head hurt worse. “Yeah.” I stared at him. “Fuck, Jack if it wasn’t for you?—”
Jack shrugged. “Don’t get all mushy on me. Besides, you would’ve done the same.”
He was right. I would have.
Judd looked between us, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re both insane,” he muttered. “Killian, you need to get checked out. That head wound looks nasty.”
I waved him off.
Instead of listening, Judd motioned for an EMT to come closer. “I’m pulling rank here. You have no choice. You’re going to the hospital to get checked out. Both of you.”
Black spots floated before me as I watched Jack pull his phone out of his back pocket. Before I could ask who he was calling, my vision blackened and a weightlessness spread throughout my limbs.
Fuck. This wasn’t going to end well.