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“Who?” Fred’s voice cracked. He wasn’t stupid, but I understood that he needed to hear it.
I jerked my head toward the exit, and Beau and Zion raced out. I didn’t need to tell them who we were searching for.
“He only gave us a first name. Told us exactly what to do to make it look like a certain street gang did it. Provided anything we needed.” Rafferty chuckled. “This guy really, really wanted the three of you dead and to be able to walk away. I wonder what he’d have gotten out of it?”
Fred pressed the scalpel to Rafferty’s cloth-covered dick. “I’m going to count to three.”
Beau returned and shook his head. Fuck! He’d gotten out, and we’d missed it. How?
“One.”
“I don’t need three seconds.” Rafferty grinned. His fate was sealed, and he knew he was about to crush Fred’s world. Any glimmer of hope Fred had for Aiden’s innocence was about to shatter.
“Two.”
“Aiden,” Rafferty said as he laughed. “Your own fucking driver. Your cousin, isn’t it?” His laughter got louder. “The only blood you had left hated you so much, he wanted to end your life and start a war.”
Fred took a step away, lifted his arm, and in one flawless move, slit Rafferty’s throat. A spray of blood covered the front of Fred. His shirt and face were painted in crimson, and the scalpel dripped.
And like someone hit a switch, I watched the most amazing man I’d ever known fall apart. He crashed to the floor and screamed…a battle cry, a release. So much pain, too much heartbreak. He never looked for Aiden. It was as if he knew the man had fled. For the first time since Sean and Aine had died, Fred crumbled.
I stepped beside him and kneeled. Without thinking, without caring that I’d be covered in blood, I wrapped my arms around him and did my best to hold him together. The scalpel clanged to the floor, and his fingers dug into my arms. His sobs tore at my soul.
I felt my exercitus surround us, protecting, supporting, giving whatever they could to a shattered man.
It didn’t matter how long it took. I’d pick up every piece and put my Red back together again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Fred
I didn’t remember leaving the warehouse, and I vaguely recalled being washed, dressed, and put into bed. Through the night a constant warmth surrounded me. The scent was familiar and comforting. I drifted on and off, plagued with nightmares of Aine’s body being torn apart by bullets, of my uncle Sean’s eyes.
I jolted awake to the sound of gunshots only to realize it was a dream.
“You’re okay.”
I turned and faced Vincenzo. He was noticeably exhausted.
“Did you sleep?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I wasn’t leaving you.”
How ridiculous was this man? “I was sleeping; you were here. How is that leaving me?”
“Anytime you woke I wanted you to know I was here, no matter what.”
Jesus. “Oh, Vin,” I whispered and pressed my lips to his.
He ran his fingers through my hair and tenderly, as if I were fragile, returned my kiss. We lay like that for a while. I had so much I needed to deal with, but wrapped in his arms under the softest blankets in the world, I could easily forget.
When we broke apart, I could read his expression and it was all the same emotions I had swirling around my head and heart.
“Where is he?” I didn’t have to say who…I didn’t even want to say his name.
