Page 115 of Trigger Happy

Air slams into my lungs so hard I almost fall over. The relief makes me dizzy, so I focus on her body, checking for injuries. No blood, so the bullet must not have hit her. She dove out of the way just in time. Damn, those reflexes. I want to pull her into my arms, but then she smiles at me.

And I remember.

All that relief clots up.

She’s fucking grinning at me. After killing my brother.

Rage ices over my spine, chilling me to the bone. I tighten my hands on her shoulders, pressing her into the leaves as I glare down at her. Killed him. In cold blood. She looks up with a question between her brows, and that grin slowly twists into a look filled with pity.

“Lawton…”

“Why?” I demand. Dammit, my voice cracks.

Understanding fills her eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Why?” I snap, squeezing her harder. “I need a reason.”

“Because she’s a liar, that’s why!” Bobbi shouts. She’s hysterical. Good, that makes two of us. “Don’t listen to her, Lawton. She murdered Walker. She deserves this.”

I pull out my knife from my pocket and hold the cool blade to Sabrina’s neck. A slow gulp moves down her throat. She’s scared. Good. She should be. I haven’t felt this unraveled in a long time.

“You killed Walker?” I ask, so close I can feel her breath.

She sucks in air and her chest hits mine. Her eyes squeeze shut, and then she says, “Yes.”

That one word knocks the wind out of me.

She continues on. “But it’s not what you think, and I’ll tell you everything, but first I need you to know that I’m sorry.”

No. She doesn’t get to apologize. She’s not allowed to make herself feel better for this. I don’t want to listen to anything she has left to say. Nothing could change this.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” I cut her off. “You lied to me. For over a year.”

A tear leaks out of the corner of her eye. It has to be fake. My grip on the knife falters, but then I press it harder into her skin.

I should do it.

There’s already enough blood on my hands, what’s one more drop? She deserves it. So why is my arm shaking?

The blade trembles against Sabrina’s throat, and a stream of red slips down the column of her neck. I fight the temptation to wipe it away.

“You know,” I say. “I thought this thing between us was more real than anything I felt. Guess I was wrong.”

She swallows, and the blue in her eyes shines with regret I don’t want to see. “You weren’t. It was real for—”

“Don’t,” I force out.

My knife slips from my hand, hitting the leaves. I push back from her because I can’t do this. I can’t be here. I rush over to Bobbi and yank the gun out of her grasp.

“Hey!” she complains. “What are you—”

I place the barrel at her temple and lower my voice to a growl. “Listen to me. You don’t touch Sabrina. You don’t hurt her. You don’t so much as clip her nails. If anything happens to her, you’ll be target number one on my shit list. Got it?”

Bobbi gulps. Not good enough.

I press the barrel harder to her head. “You got it?” I repeat.

She nods fast.