Page 86 of Steel Vengeance
“What happened?” she asked.
“He went for my gun.” Stitch replied. “Stupid move. Gave us no choice.”
“So you shot him?” Neither of them looked particularly torn up about it.
“We both did,” Blade said from the back.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Youbothshot him?”
“Yeah.” Stitch pursed his lips.
“Couldn't let him grab the weapon,” Blade added.
A long silence followed.
“I can’t believe Jeremy is dead.” She stared out of the window at the rolling hills dotted with sparse vegetation. Not that she’d liked the man. He’d hired the shooter to kill her, and he’d done all those other terrible things. It’s just killing him seemed so drastic. So… final.
“If he’d grabbed my gun, we wouldn’t be here,” Stitch said, misreading her reaction. “He would’ve killed us without a moment’s hesitation.”
“It’s not that,” she murmured, head spinning. “It’s just a lot to get my head around.”
“At least he can’t hurt you now,” Blade said.
“But Matthew still can.”
“Sullivan doesn’t know Jeremy’s dead,” Stitch reassured her. “Won’t know for a few days, at least, until the cops ID the body.”
“And that’s not going to be easy,” Blade added. “He probably has several aliases.”
She exhaled, relieved. “What happens when they do?”
“By then this will all be over,” Stitch said, an edge to his voice.
Sloane hoped he was right.
“I’m gonna get some shuteye,” Blade said, stretching out across the backseat. “Wake me when it’s my turn.”
Stitch nodded.
Sloane turned to the window, watching the landscape change to wide, open plains that stretched for miles in all directions. It was obvious Stitch and Blade were used to working together. They had an unspoken bond forged from years operating in the same team, and an ease of communication that only came with knowing someone well. They were tight, like brothers, and would always have each other’s back.
Had they really both shot Jeremy? She’d never know, but she believed them when they said he’d gone for Stitch’s gun. It had been self-defense.
Turning away from the window, she stole a glance at Stitch. His blue eyes were locked on the road, cool and steady, like nothing fazed him. His hands gripped the wheel with this effortless confidence, the kind that made you feel safe and a little on edge at the same time. His tanned forearms flexed with every slight turn, showing off those cut muscles and that tattoo—dark and winding, tied to a career that he was proud of but never talked about.
With that chiseled jaw and slightly tousled hair he was both lethal and breathtakingly gorgeous—a dangerous mix she found impossible to ignore.
Too bad they’d never get to finish what they started. At least she had some memories.Thatnight would be forever burned into her mind.
A soft snoring came from the back. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Blade was already out cold.
“That didn’t take long,” she remarked.
“He’s always like that,” Stitch said without looking away from the road. “Motion knocks him out. Cars, buses, helicopters—you name it, he’s out.”
She smiled. “You two are close, huh?”
“Yep, like brothers. It was the same with the whole team—me, Blade, Cole.” His jaw tightened. “Joe, Chris, and Rick didn’t make it back from our last op.”