Page 134 of Retaliation

Then, faintly, she heard it—voices cutting through the stillness like the first crack of lightning. Scorpion’s voice, raw and furious, rising above the storm.

“You coward!” he roared, the fury in his voice matching the crackling energy in the air. “Why couldn’t you just leave her alone?”

The sound spurred her forward, despite the sharp stabbing in her stomach. She rounded the corner, her pulse spiking as adrenaline flooded her system.

There they were—Scorpion and Reaper, facing off like two predators about to tear into each other. Reaper’s twisted grin spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with sick amusement as he stood there, taunting, like he was savoring every second of Scorpion’s rage.

“Tsk, tsk,” Reaper’s voice dripped with mockery, thick with venom. “Let’s save the talking, shall we? It’s time to end this. Just you and me, Scorpion.”

Her chest tightened with anger, her muscles tensing as she stepped forward.

“And me!” she shouted, her voice rising above the rumble of the storm. Her words cut through the wind, sharp and defiant. “I’m in this too.”

Both men turned at the sound of her voice. Reaper’s smirk widened, the gleam in his eyes shifting to something darker, more dangerous.

“This ought to be good,” he sneered, casting her a dismissive glance before locking eyes with Scorpion again, like she was nothing more than a small distraction.

Scorpion spun around, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Poison—what the hell are you—”

But before he could finish, Reaper lunged. It happened in an instant—faster than she could react. The world seemed to freeze, tension hanging thick in the air, charged like the storm overhead. Her heart pounded in her chest, her muscles coiled to spring forward. But then the night split open.

A deafening crack broke the sky and shook the ground beneath her feet.

Thunder?

No.

A gunshot.

Reaper crumpled to the ground behind Scorpion, his body collapsing like a rag doll, the cruel grin wiped from his face in an instant. She barely registered what had happened when a second gunshot shattered the air, echoing in her skull.

Her eyes snapped back to Scorpion, and horror washed over her like the first cold drops of rain that kissed her skin. His body jerked forward, his eyes going wide with shock, with betrayal. He gasped, trying to speak, but nothing came—just the sound of his breath leaving him in a slow, agonizing wheeze. Time slowed, dragging each second out into an eternity as she watched him stagger, then fall.

“No,” she whispered, her voice strangled as the ground rushed up to meet him.

The sickening thud of his body hitting the dirt echoed in her ears. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, the world narrowing to that single moment—Scorpion’s body lying limp, blood pooling from the bullet wound in his back, dark and accusing against the earth mixing with the rain.

Her hands trembled as she stared at the spreading crimson, the cold reality crashing down on her like the first lash of the storm.

“No… no…”

The words fell from her lips, barely more than a breath. Her vision swam, her heart pounding, but she forced herself to look up, her mind desperate to find the source of the gunshots.

And then, she saw him through the blur of the downpour.

FORTY SEVEN

Gunnar.

Gunnar with a gun now aimed directly at her.

His finger tightening on the trigger.