Page 223 of Lethal King

“Who else was there?”

“Leander, obviously,” Tytus snips. “Then there was me, Roz, and Drago… We were just going to play with that fucker until we could get close enough to cut his throat… But he isn’t as helpless as he seems. The bastard was ready for us… or maybe he wasn’t, and the plan was always to stab us in the back…”

“He ambushed you?”

Tytus nods.

“Doesn’t feel so fucking good, does it?” I can’t help but jab.

Tytus’ big broad chest heaves as he chokes out a laugh.

“I guess not,” he chuckles. “But you got back what was taken from you. All of it. No matter what happens, we’ll never get back all of what Leander stole from us.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, panic suddenly rising.

“Roz is fine,” he says with an understanding sigh. “She just got hit with a tranquilizer dart. She’ll be alright… as long as we get to her before Leander can do something irreversible.”

My fingers curl into fists as I search the floor for my gun. It’s over by the fallen sconce.

“How the hell did you and Drago get away and Roz didn’t?” I ask. Keeping my eyes on Tytus, I slowly step over to my discarded weapon.

“Drago didn’t get away,” Tytus quietly says. His voice is thick and heavy. I swear I see his eyes fog up again.

“But you did.”

“Just barely.”

Reaching down, I pick up my gun.

“… And you left Roz behind?”

I can’t tell if the sound that tears up his wounded throat is another chuckle or a silent sob.

“It was my only chance,” he whispers. “I couldn’t save her if I was dead…”

“No. You couldn’t,” I admit.

I can feel the pain in his voice. The guilt and the regret.

I feel the same way.

Wiping the blood from my fingers, I holster my gun. Then, I reach down and offer my hand out to Tytus.

This time, he’s the one who hesitates.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his brow furrowing in a mixture of suspicion and pain. His foggy eyes are filled with uncertainty, like he’s not quite sure what’s happening, or what’s going to happen next.

That makes two of us.

“I’d do anything for Roz,” I say. “Even work with you.”

“Sounds about right,” Tytus weakly smiles.

With great effort, he lifts his arm up again. I lean forward and take his hand, helping him to his feet.

“Let’s go hunting.”

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