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We had to move fast. According to Dexter, Shepherd’s faction was planning another hit before the end of the month. No witnesses or public events this time—it would be targeted directly at me. That was all he knew.

I believed him; Shepherd wouldn’t share his entire strategy with underlings. Luckily, Dexter had given me the location of his primary war room and weapons stash. If we preemptively destroyed those or, better yet, killed Shepherd, we could end the Brotherhood’s civil war and get them off my fucking ass.

“I’ll double-check the intel and have someone recon their war room,” Sean said. “But we’re already stretched thin, and this is going to take all our resources. Do you want us to pull back on Emmanuelle until we hit Shepherd?”

I’d kept my tail on the Beaumont agency head, but months of reconnaissance had turned up nothing. My gut told me I shouldn’t dismiss her—there was something there—but I couldn’t make the pieces fit yet. Given the circumstances, I had to prioritize.

I nodded again, giving Sean the go-ahead to consolidate our resources.

I left him, Mav, and Bruce to dispose of Dexter while I cleaned up, changed in the bathroom, and tossed my old clothes into an incinerator. It wasn’t much, but at least I didn’t look like I’d walked off a horror movie set anymore.

I waited until I was half an hour out from the warehouse before I turned on my phone. Missed calls and text messages flooded my screen.

My heart stopped. At first, I thought something had happened to Ayana, or Jordan had died, but a quick scan of the messages proved otherwise.

A cool shock of air burned my lungs.

He was awake.

He hadn’t died because of me.

He was awake.

CHAPTER39

Vuk

Jordan was asleep when I arrived, so I waited by his side until his eyes finally cracked open. The nurses had protested before they found out who I was and how much money I donated to the hospital every year. After that, they left me alone.

Fortunately, Jordan woke up not long after, so I wasn’t stuck staring at him from an uncomfortable plastic chair all day.

He blinked up at me, his eyes bleary. “Jesus,” he said. “Creep much? I know you missed me, but you don’t have to watch me sleep like you’re Edward fucking Cullen.”

I ignored the pop of relief in my chest and snorted.Talking shit the minute you wake up. Typical.

“How would you know? You weren’t here the minute I woke up,” he retorted. “It’s been hours. I was beginning to think you’d fucked off and forgotten about me.”

Anyone ever tell you you’re needy as hell?

“Yeah. You.”

We stared at each other for a taut moment before we broke out into grins. Well, he grinned, and I sort of smiled.

I leaned forward and clasped him in a hug—our first in years. I wasn’t a hugger by nature, but fuck, it felt good to see him back in form.

The heart monitor had beeped steadily the entire time I was here, but I hadn’t been convinced Jordan wasn’t actually dead until he opened his big mouth.

I gave him one last thump on the back before I pulled away. My smile faded. Despite his wisecracks, he was pale and gaunt after a week in the hospital—a week he’d spent here because of me.

I’d gotten him shot,andI’d slept with his fiancée while he’d been out cold. Engagement of convenience or not, it was still a shitty thing to do.

I was going to rot in hell. That had already been a given, but my recent actions really put me in the red.

The weight of our last conversation ballooned between us. We’d both said things we shouldn’t have, but time and a near-death experience had smoothed the jagged edges of our anger.

I’m glad you’re okay.I settled for the obvious before we jumped into the inevitable.

“Me too.” Jordan gave me a half smile. “The doctors said it was touch and go there for a bit, but you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He hesitated. “What happened to the shooters?”