Dark Secrets(67)

She was hurting.

He had figured as much. He had worried as much.

But seeing it was a whole other animal. Seeing it made a stab of pain shoot through him as well.



       
         
       
        

But he had to deal. He was being there for a buddy and, if he was honest, he was there because he wanted to know if she was anywhere near as affected by the whole situation as he was.

Because, quite frankly, he had not been in a great place since he got made and fired. He threw himself into working out, into trying to decide what the fuck he was going to do with his life. With very little success.

"Wasn't my call. That's why I'm here," he said and he watched as a flash of acute pain shot through her eyes.

"Hey," he said, raising his hand, unable to just watch her hurt and not do something about it. But before his hand even got anywhere near her face, she jerked away from it.

"He needs to get out of here. If you can't get him out of here, then you need to make sure he never comes back."

She was just trying to deflect. He knew that. And he couldn't seem to muster the kindness to let that slide.

"Understood," he agreed, nodding a little. His head ducked to the side. His voice got a softer. "Can we talk about this?"

"There's nothing to talk about," she insisted but they both knew it was bullshit.

But before he could even open his mouth to contradict her, there was the loud, all-too-familiar bang bang bang of gunshots inside Lam. It was met almost instantaneously with screaming from some women, crashing of glass, and raised male voices.

His body turned instinctively toward the door, reaching into his waistband for his gun. Technically, he was still an agent. He hadn't officially resigned. So he still had his service weapon.

"What the fuck, no," he yelled, snagging Faith around the waist as she moved to rush past him, to rush into an unknown situation.

"Get your fucking hands off of me," she shrieked as he pinned her to his body.

The thing was, he only had one hand, the other was holding the gun.

So when she tipped forward, making him curl his back toward her, then she jumped high and fast, she broke free of his arm and he wasn't able to catch her before she flew inside the door.

With no other option, he grabbed the door before it slammed and followed her in.

There was glass all across the floor, tables overturned, people huddling behind them, shaking, crying, with their phones to their ears.

Where he had been half-expecting to find Faith skidded to a stop inside the door, frozen with the image of what was in front of her- two men down on the ground near the table in the back, bleeding, cursing. Another standing there with a gun- she hadn't.

Of course she hadn't done something as pedestrian as freeze.

She had crouched across the line of tables, stood, then thrown herself over the bar. He heard the crash as she hit the floor behind it. So did the man with the gun, turning suddenly in that direction, waving the gun around wildly. 

There was one thing that was clear- the guy was in way over his head.

Daniel took that second reprieve from the fear of her safety to assess the situation.

Vin and Salvatore were gone, likely safely behind the door of their panic room, watching the whole situation unfold in the TV feed inside. Anthony, though, hadn't made it inside. Daniel took a moment to wonder if the family was genuinely that cold, that into the idea of 'survival of the fittest' or if maybe Anthony had gotten shot first, before any of them could even move. The other one bleeding out on the bar floor, yeah, that'd be Max.

Daniel felt his heart seize in his chest.

Max was the only goddamn person he had in the world, likely the only sonofabitch who even cared if he lived or died. And his blood was soaking through the expensive material of his suit in the chest area.

As if sensing his gaze, Max's eyes slid to Daniel. His eyes were pained, but even so, he was thinking clearly. Because he gave him a small head shake. And that small motion told him two things at once- he wasn't made and he didn't want Daniel to expose himself either.

But then Faith popped up, a big, nasty looking Desert Eagle .50 caliber in between her hands.

Of course.

Of fucking course if she had a gun, that's the gun she would have.

Damn.

Amidst the chaos, he still felt a completely overwhelming surge of desire at seeing her handling such a powerful weapon with such confident ease, like she was born with the fucking thing in her hands.

But then the gunman cocked his gun in her direction.

And he couldn't honor his best friend's wishes, not even if they turned out being his last.

Because he couldn't let anything happen to her.