Page 187 of When We Fall: Part One

I just wanted to go home and be with our girl. If I had to end this madness, I would.

Pissed, I got out, Cole shrieking at me to get back into the car.

I stormed forward, not giving a fuck if I got shot. I was over this shit.

I walked straight up to the car, pointed my gun at the driver, and pulled the trigger. He was already slumped and groaning from the impact, which was good for me since the other two guys in the car were too busy shooting at the Escalade, hoping to get Enzo.

I popped the guy in the backseat before getting to the guy in the front. I reached inside and cracked him in the face with my gun, knocking him out.

“What the fuck?” Cole shouted, rushing over to me. “Have you lost your fucking mind, E? You could have been killed! How the fuck are you still alive?”

I didn’t say a word. I opened the door to the car and pulled out the guy I’d knocked out. Reaching into my jacket, I grabbed a dose of my sugar that would render the dude a blubbering asshole and keep him under my control. I jammed the needle into his neck and dragged him to the back of the Escalade. Cole helped me put him in the trunk.

I wanted to go home, so if I had to take matters into my own hands, so be it.

Sirens blared in the distance. They’d back off once they realized we and our enemies caused this. There were a lot of crooked cops in this city, many under Enzo’s thumb. Those who weren’t were under Ivanov’s. Everett Church’s. Even Matteo De Santis. No one was loyal. Whoever paid the most was the winner. Right now, Enzo was paying top dollar. The cops who were still decent weren’t great at all and wouldn’t pursue us, hoping we’d just kill each other off.

We got back into the trashed Escalade. Enzo had been talking about getting a new vehicle, and it looked like he had a damn good reason now.

“I caught one,” I said, settling back in my seat.

Fox looked at me like I’d sprouted an extra head.

“E? You good?” he asked as Enzo put the Escalade into gear and got us out of there. We drove in the direction of one of his warehouses.

“I’m just really fucking tired of this shit,” I muttered, realizing just how hard my heart was pumping. I’d been foolish for what I’d done. I’d been working on my shit in therapy, though. My shrink told me I had to face my fears. Dying and leaving my girl behind was a huge one.

Nothing said facing your fears like walking through gunfire.

I didn’t say that I hoped one of the bullets would catch me and put me out of my misery, though.

That was my secret.

But the look on Fox’s face told me he wasn’t entirely buying my tough guy act.

He shook his head at me and reloaded his gun.

I pulled my phone out and sent a text to Rosalie.

E: Baby, you good?

Rosalie: Of course. Are you guys OK? How are Anthony and Marissa?

E: On the move. They’re safe, as far as we know. Anson might have to stay late. We have some business we have to attend to.

Her answer came slower.

Rosalie: Please be careful. I worry so much. Come home to me. I love you.

I swallowed hard at her words, guilt washing over me at the nonsense I’d just pulled.

E: I will. I love you, too. See you soon, sweetheart.

I darkened my screen and stared out the window.

Fuck, I just wanted to go home.

FIFTY-EIGHT