Chapter 190

Wyatt, on his knees, with Archer and Beau holding him both constrained and upright, looks like a sad, broken man. Neil has his gun on him, sights trained right on Wyatt’s forehead.

By now, he’s asked his brothers what he should do. He’s likely made up his mind whether to shoot or not.

But he still hasn’t asked me. And damn it, as one of the injured parties here, I am damn well ready to have my voice be heard.

Neil’s face is intense, his gaze entirely focused on Wyatt. Even as Neil stands there, his body pushes the bullet out from his shoulder. It clatters down onto the sidewalk. Neil doesn’t even flinch.

Gods, he’s likely about to kill Wyatt, gun or no gun. That thought alone has me moving closer, despite the obvious warning in his threatening posture. He won’t hurt me, I know that. But he’s still so intense that it’s frightening.

Fortunately, I don’t let fear control me.

“Neil,” I say. I keep my voice soft, more coaxing than demanding. “You can’t kill him.”

Neil’s jaw clenches. “He deserves it for all he’s done.” He side-eyes me, just for a moment. “You, more than anyone, should understand the risk in leaving him alive.”

Is that what this is about? The continued risk to me?

The brothers have indicated some nervousness regarding Wyatt’s desire for revenge, and rightfully so, as was played out here today. But… looking at him now, I see only a small, abandoned little man who has lost everything.

I remember the boy in the photo with Isaac, and my heart lurches, trying to connect the two together.

“There’s no lost love between Wyatt and me,” I say. “But… the pain it will cause my family if he dies is… insurmountable. Isaac himself would never recover. My mother, when she learns the truth, will never forgive herself.”

“We can make it look like an accident,” Beau suggests. “Keep you out of it.”

I shake my head lightly. “It won’t make a difference.”

“Wyatt did not have the same consideration when he tried to murder you,” Archer adds. “Would your mother not mourn you? Your step-father?”

“They would,” I say. “But… we aren’t like Wyatt.” I look at them all, first Archer, then Beau, and finally to Neil. “None of us are like him. We aren’t murderers.”

Neil stays still as a statue for a moment more. Then he lets out a hefty sigh. I’ve gotten through to him. I’m sure of it.

Neil is protective to a fault, but he is no murderer.

That’s what I believe.

Right up until the point he fires the gun.

I jump at the noise. At the action.

Neil isn’t like this! He would never!

But then Wyatt cries out in pain. Pain. A shot to the head would have immediately rendered him unconscious.

I look at him. He’s been shot in the shoulder instead, in the same place he shot Neil.

Wyatt lifts his hand and grabs over his wound. He’s trembling, grunting and crying in pain. He shows none of the restrained and will that Neil earlier showed. None of the toughness.

No Alpha qualities at all.

Wyatt remains a sniveling coward.

Neil steps forward. He places the gun under Wyatt’s chin and lifts his face so that they are looking eye to eye.

“It is only through Chloe’s mercy that you have been spared,” Neil says. It’s cold and matter of fact. He doesn’t use that voice with me, hasn’t since the beginning. “If you ever go near Chloe again, I will ruin you, do you understand? I will destroy your life, your family, any and everything you hold dear.”

Wyatt sobs. Fat tears run down his cheeks. “F-forgive me,” he mutters again and again, brokenly, on a loop.

“If you hurt Chloe, she won’t be around to save you,” Neil continues. “No one will stop me.”

I look at Neil, suddenly seeing him in a terrifying new light. I know the Hayes brothers are strong, and they can flex that power in all sorts of ways. I’ve seen it myself. Sometimes their earlier cruelty was directed even at me.

It has been a long while since they’ve gone after me. I have thought them changed. But no, I can see now. They have not changed for the rest of the world, only in how they treat me.

Neil steps back. Wyatt’s head droops without the support keeping it upright. Neil unloads the gun again, then empties the bullets one by one onto the ground. He tosses the empty gun aside into the grass. The rain pelts down, tinging against the unspent bullets.

Archer and Beau release their hold on Wyatt’s shoulders. He slumps forward and then falls face-first into the ground. He’s not dead, I can see him wheezing. Yet he makes no effort to right himself.

The brothers begin walking toward the car. When I don’t move right away, Beau wraps his arm around my shoulders and guides me. I turn back to look at Wyatt once. He hasn’t moved.

I don’t look a second time.

We talk through the park at a slow and steady pace. The rain by now is still pouring down, but not as hard as before. The thunder and lightning still sounds, but it’s much farther off, like the storm is near ending.

I wonder why we are moving so slowly for only a half-second before I realize Archer and Beau are following Neil’s pace. He must be exhausted, having rushed across the park to my daring rescue. And then to be shot.

The silver poisoning slows his healing factor. As quickly as his body pushed that bullet out, it likely would have been even faster if he was healthy.

My heart aches in my chest. I could see, now that we are alone, Neil’s pace is slowing. He’s dragging his feet a little.

“I can carry you,” Archer suggests.

“I’m not a child,” Neil snaps, though his tone is so belligerent, he sounds a bit like a child in that moment. It’s such a stark contrast to the serious man that held that gun that I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me.

Everyone stops to look at me. Okay, it probably wasn’t the most proper time for a laugh, but… after the high tension, after the fear, and the pain… we are alive.

I look at Neil and he looks back at me curiously. The hard edge to him is gone. He’s once again the Neil I know: that control freak, who will likely freak out about the blood stains in his outfit the moment we get into the car.

Gods, I hope they have towels in there, I’m soaked to the bone.

“I’m glad you’re back to normal,” I tell him, because I am. Because I was afraid there for a minute, that in his desire to protect me so strongly, he would become something he’s not: a murderer.

He smiles a little at me then, and the tension in the other two breaks.

“You keep seeing the best in us, Chloe,” Neil says.

If only he could hear my inner monologue, he would know that’s not true. I call them assholes and bastards and jerks in my head all the time.

But yeah, I guess I want to believe the best in them. But, more likely, I just see what there is to see.

I return Neil’s smile. I open my mouth to tell him the truth…

When his eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses.