Page 138 of Until the End

He did his best to thread the pieces together and answer their rapid-fire questions.

When he got to the part about his standoff with Sanborn, he locked down his grief and guilt, pressing through, and said, “I shot Sanborn.” His voice was rough between hard swallows. “I killed him.”

The sting seared his heart.

If he hadn’t, Sanborn would’ve stalled, running down the clock, and Kit would be dead.

Castle had been one of Sanborn’s first recruits for the Gray Box. For seven years, he’d believed in him, followed him, subscribed to Sanborn’s ideology, thinking it had mirrored his own. Castle was the brutal soldier Sanborn had needed, the clever operative he was supposed to become. Soaked up his praise and devoured his macarons like a well-trained follower. He was so busy being everything that Sanborn wanted that he never considered what else he might be.

Both Maddox and Reaper were wide-eyed and speechless. The gravity of the situation was suffocating. Castle could barely breathe.

“Jesus. I can’t believe it.” Reaper shook his head, his eyes solemn. “Only Sanborn could’ve come up with an operation so…”

Cunning. Complex. “Machiavellian,” Castle said.

“How could he gamble Cole’s life with the Russians? Risk all our lives?” It was plain to see on Maddox’s stricken face that she didn’t want any of it to be true. “How could he have lied to us? Used us?”

Castle was still grappling with the reality. The deceit. The profound betrayal. That Sanborn was gone. Every single one of them would have to go through the five stages of grief. Castle was somewhere between anger and bargaining.

Acceptance was a long way off.

“I’m sorry you had to be the one,” Reaper said. “To end it.”

To kill Sanborn.

“Oh God.” Maddox clutched his arm. “I can’t imagine what this must be like for you, Castle. You two were so close.”

Castle’s chest ached. Deep down, something inside him was bleeding, but he couldn’t unpack the conflicting emotions tearing through him. Not now. Not here. Hell, maybe not ever.

It was too much. He wanted to shut down, but instead he summoned his strength. “Yeah,” he gritted out, unable to meet her eyes. His throat tightened. “Reaper, I need you to go back to headquarters and find the real anthrax device that Sanborn hid somewhere so we can turn it over to the CDC.”

His friend nodded. “I’ll find it.”

“She’s awake!” the EMT called.

Castle’s heart leapt. He turned and jumped into the ambulance.

Kit opened her eyes and stared up at him.

Fathomless joy washed over him.

“You look awful,” she said, sounding as if she’d run a marathon.

Tears stung his eyes and he smiled. “You look a hot mess yourself.”

She touched his face, caressing his stubbled cheek. Sticky emotions rose in his chest. He kissed the inside of her wrist and soaked in the normal beat of her pulse.

“God, Kit.” He squeezed her hand and brushed his lips across her cool forehead. “Are you all right?”

She gave a slow, shallow nod. “I am now. But you really have to work on your timing.”

He huffed a surprised laugh. “Yes, ma’am.” They’d both survived and had a chance at something, together. He wasn’t going to waste one precious minute with her by chasing after death and violence.

Castle held Kit tighter, emptied of everything but love and gratitude. This was the point of living. He’d never take this feeling for granted. Or her.

“There’s a lot going on here.” Castle pulled back to look in Kit’s crazy-beautiful eyes. “Someone has to manage it, answer questions. Get the road open so you can go to the hospital and have some tests done to be on the safe side.” He lowered his head. “I think it has to be me. Would you hate me if I left you with Maddox for a bit?”

Kit flashed a weak smile. “Believe it or not, I could never hate you. Pissed? Yeah, I can do pissed unless you promise to make it up to me.”