Page 38 of What’s Left of You (What Left #2)

I shift my gaze between the three of them, watching their expressions change. The love Jo had moments ago is stained with betrayal, her eyes full of hurt as she watches. Vinny vibrates with anger as he studies me, and Sterling has the same sort of calculating look I do as he debates what to do.

Licking my lips, I slowly shake my head. The wound in my leg is throbbing now that there’s nothing to distract me from it, and it’s only going to get worse. I nod to Sterling, still not sure what exactly I’m supposed to think of him being here. “Where’s your team?”

He lifts one shoulder. “Probably on the way here now. They were suspicious when I left, and it’s only going to take a little bit of time for them to piece things together.”

I’m not sure I agree with that, because I’ve seen how long it’s taking them to piece things together. I mean, we have been here for a while. At least since I woke up. “And why are you here?”

Sterling scoffs. “To arrest-”

“Don’t lie,” I tell him, the corner of my mouth hooking up. He’s still naked, his cock out, and I spotted those piercings he has. That was a fun surprise. “If you really just wanted to arrest me, we wouldn’t have done that.”

He blushes, and it’s kind of cute. I didn’t gauge him as the easily-embarrassed type. As for Jo and Vinny? They’re significantly more experienced and comfortable with each other than anything we had when we were eighteen.

I didn’t expect Agent Gideon to be a romantic anything either, but Vinny mentioned it when Jo told me to worship her. I thought it was a joke, because what kind of agent throws caution to the wind and sleeps with a killer he’s supposed to be hunting?

I like Sterling a little bit more for that.

“Alastair,” Vinny says, his voice no longer holding the same commanding tone from moments ago. He’s not in charge now, and I’m not tempted to obey him. That moment’s passed. “What are you doing?”

I smirk. “I don’t know what you both thought was going to happen next, but there’s no fixing this.”

“Put the gun down and we can talk,” Sterling says, trying to sound reasonable.

“Oh, Agent,” I tell him, shaking my head. “How will you contend with me? Do you want your team to know what you’re really doing here? Fucking around with a serial killer is never a good career move.”

He narrows his eyes. “Why should that matter to you?”

“We’ve gotten comfortable with each other,” I reason, wiggling my eyebrows. “I’d hate to have to learn to talk to new agents. I like your team.”

He frowns, glancing towards Jo and Vinny who don’t look like they entirely understand me either. Sterling clears his throat and tries again. “Firing at federal agents when they arrive won’t help you.”

“Are you planning for me to die?” I ask, and the words sound way too chipper in my ears.

I’m putting distance between myself and the three of them, because any association will drag them down with me.

When Sterling clenches his jaw and shakes his head, I continue speaking.

“Then they shouldn’t shoot to kill. They should notice I’m in a room with three other people before opening fire. ”

“They aren’t going to shoot to kill,” Sterling says carefully, and I get the feeling he doesn’t like telling me that. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The moments between all of us didn’t change his outlook on me. “But they will recognize you as a threat.”

I shrug. That’s not going to matter. The plan in my head is unfolding as we speak, and there’s really only one way I can try and protect the three people in front of me and that’s by taking the blame.

Keeping hold of the gun, I nod to the various piles of clothing. “Get dressed. As fun as it is looking at how pretty you all are, that’s just between us.”

They look between each other, but Vinny moves first, snatching up a ball of fabric in front of him. He doesn’t look at it, handing it off to Jo as he glares at me. That seems very on brand for him, and I wink as she stares at me before pulling on the shirt. It looks like his black tee from earlier.

Sterling moves next, his clothing all left in a pile on one side of the couch. It puts him closest to me, and the only other gun that I know about. I might not want to harm any of them, but no one else needs to know that. “This isn’t what you want to do, Alastair.”

“You don’t know what I want to do,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes. I shift again, eyeing the ill-fitting sweats I took what feels like a lifetime ago. “You all will throw your lives away if you get caught here with me as anything but hostages.”

“You expect us to all lie?” Sterling asks, shaking out his pants. “And keep the stories straight?”

I meet his gaze. “Not at all, Agent Gideon. I expect you to turn back to your job and do what you have to, and I’ll do the same.”

“What about us?” Jo hisses. My eyes can’t help but study the scars that are still obvious across her skin, reminding me of exactly how they got there. “We’re supposed to just play along?”

“You can tell them any story you want,” I tell her. “But rest assured Jo, my intentions don’t make me a saint. If the only way off Death Row is death, I’d happily drag you to hell with me. Anything for more of your time. But I’ll let you pave the way there yourselves.”

She exchanges a glance with Vinny again, like they share a mind. Maybe they do. Trauma makes people grow closer when there’s no one else to rely on. She shifts on her feet, but Vinny is adamant that he doesn’t trust me, so she speaks past him. “If you go back to prison you’re going back to die.”

“I’ve always known that,” I tell her with a shrug, focusing on Sterling again. “That’s not news to me.”

He’s going to make a move, I can feel it. His eyes drift to the window for a split second, and my only guess is he’s looking for backup. If he arrived with his team in tow there’s no way he would risk joining what we had started. So if he’s checking, then they are close or already here.

Pity. I’m out of time.

Sterling reacts faster than I anticipate, still wallowing in the fact that the journey is over. He lunges for me, and I react to keep him from tackling me and taking the gun.

The safety is still on, and I twist my hand to whip the butt of the gun across the side of his head. I think my aim is off, but I’ve never had a reason to pistol whip anyone before since my weapon of choice used to be a knife.

He drops, and thank fuck he decided to put his shirt back on before he came at me. There’s no vest to protect him from bullets, but his jacket is thrown to one side and that might be an issue.

I stumble on my bad leg when Vinny moves to approach, angling the gun towards him. “Calm yourselves, Lovebirds. Don’t fuck up the plan now. You deserve a happy ending.”

“Quit being a martyr,” Jo growls from behind his shoulder. Her eyes frantically look around the room, but if she’s trying to come up with a way to grab the other gun she’s out of luck. It’s closest to me now since I intercepted Sterling, sitting in its place on the table. “We can do this together-”

“Don’t forget who I am, Jo,” I interrupt. “I’m a killer. Just because your mother was the catalyst doesn’t make me innocent. Yet you still seem to want to love me. Is that what’s called a hero complex?”

“She still thinks you can still be saved,” Vinny grumbles.

I laugh. “Killer, there’s no saving me from Death Row, but I appreciate the attempt.

You can’t save me, and you can’t change me.

I am who I am, and Alastair Constantine is destined to die.

Hate it, love it, it’s going to be a reality.

I always knew the devil in you lives for the monster in me. But this is where we meet our end.”

“It doesn’t have to be the end,” Jo hisses, and I shake my head. “You don’t have to do this alone!”

“I made the choice to be alone,” I tell her, and I hear something behind me. Like something on the porch, and maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but I think someone is here. “I lived alone, and I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will die alone.”

Vinny opens his mouth, but I don’t hear what he says. The door behind me is thrown open, and I spin around without responding to him.

I see the all black outfits, the guns. This is very different from the last time I was arrested, and too many things are happening at once for me to document each thing to memory.

The second person in is familiar though, and I recognize his dark hair twisted back on his head and the FBI bullet proof vest.

Sorry Gabe, old buddy.

I aim and shoot. He screams, and I register that I managed to hit him somehow before another person takes me down.

I hit the ground, the gun in my hand going off and making my ears ring.

There’s a lot of screaming, and I think someone is yelling at me.

It takes a moment to register that Jensen is here too, and I didn’t see him coming in.

His voice mixes with the rest of the noise, and I don’t focus on whatever he’s saying as my gaze bounces around the room.

Across the space, I see Vinny tucking Jo into his side. Her eyes are wide and she has one hand pressed over her ear, the other gesturing wildly to another man in an all-black outfit. SWAT is branded across another person’s vest as they rush over to them, and it clicks slowly in my brain.

The last time this happened, Jo was dying. Unconscious. Burnt.

This time she has Vinny, but when her terrified gaze finds me in the chaos I think of another time.

I lose Porscha in the smoke when we both start coughing, and there’s flames rising on the other side of the room. I’ve never thought about what she keeps down here before, but her wild laugh in the foggy room makes my blood run cold.

Jo. I left her across the room to try and stop Porscha from doing anymore damage, and now I need to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to get her out of here.

She’s thrown herself partway off the table, her coughs heavy as she tries to breathe. I cough too, pounding on my chest as I grab her shoulder with one hand, undoing the belt around her legs and dragging her to me.

This is all my fault. Porscha hinted that her daughter was on her list, but I never thought she meant it literally.

Jo doesn’t open her eyes when I jostle her, and she’s hot to the touch. Her skin is sticky from the wounds, and when I drag her into my chest she groans but doesn’t say anything.

I kiss her temple before I take off, crossing the short room that suddenly feels endless. My eyes burn from the smoke, and I need to get us out of here.

“You’re going to be okay, Killer,” I whisper, but I don’t think she can hear me. She groans and doesn’t speak, and I make it over to the cellar doors before she responds.

I throw my shoulder into the doors twice before they finally give, splintering. I shove a third time and the right door flies open, fresh air spilling in as the smoke billows out. Coughing, I force myself to walk out of the cellar.

If we just get away from the smoke, the fire, Porscha, maybe we’ll be okay.

My lungs are burning by the time I stumble and fall, and there’s a commotion around us. Her eyes blink open for a moment in the fading light, and our gazes meet but I’m not sure she really sees me before they droop closed again.

I’m dragged away from her, surprise shooting through me. “Jo!”

A cop slams me into the ground, and I can twist around enough to see his uniform. His badge… Wallsburg. “Alastair Constantine, you’re under arrest.”

“Alastair Constantine,” Jensen says, his voice slicing through the chaos and dragging me back to the moment at hand. “You’re under arrest for fleeing federal prison, for the deaths of Kyle Wallsburg and the other CGS victims since your escape. You have the right to remain silent…”

His voice fades again as it registers that the FBI is trying to pin Porscha’s new kills on me. Son of a bitch.

He keeps talking, and I look up to stare at Jo and Vinny across the room. She’s no longer fighting, but her eyes look red as she watches. Vinny has an arm braced across her front, and she looks ready to try and fly over here and help.

I lick my lips, desperate to keep her from doing that. As the person above me jerks my hands into the cuffs, I try to meet her eyes when I speak. “Per sempre, fino all’ultimo respiro.”

It’s the only Italian phrase I ever picked up from Vinny, and instead of comforting her it just makes Jo cry harder.

It’s a twist on what they once said to each other, something I learned from Vinny long ago.

I try and shoot a smile at her before I’m dragged up from the floor, the words lingering between the three of us.

It’s not the perfect translation, but Jo knows what my words are meant to mean.

Always, and to the bitter end.