Page 150 of Broken Vows

Has to be Drew.

I knew it was only a matter of time. Carmen must have told her daughter, and her daughter told him. Now he’s here to teach me a lesson. Predictable.

My gaze drops to the gun tucked beneath my seat. For a second, my hand twitches toward it. Then Carmen’s face flashes through my mind—the way she looked at my bloody knuckles in the parking lot.

I leave the gun where it is. After a slow exhale, I climb out of the Mustang and head for the front door.

I step inside.

“Let’s get this over with,” I call out. “Try not to miss this time.”

Drew steps out from the hallway with a compact pistol in his hand.

He looks tanner than usual, with a scruffy beard that’s grown in since the last time I saw him. He’s still wearing one of those ridiculous tailored suits like he’s heading to a boardroom. A fresh cut on his forehead trails blood down his temple.

I stare at it. “What the fuck happened to you?”

“Broke into the wrong place,” he mutters. “Old woman hit me with a broom.”

Sounds about right.

“And I didn’t miss,” Drew says, gesturing toward my shoulder with the gun. “You ready to admit I’m the better shot yet? I put those bullets exactly where I wanted them.”

I knew that.

For a crap shot, the grouping was too tight to be luck. Drew is a crap shot but not that crap. He meant to hit my shoulder. Meant to put me down without killing me.

He’s waiting for me to say it. To admit he got the better of me.

Part of me would rather let him think I’m losing my edge than tell him the truth. But for some reason I can’t explain, I swallow hard and give it to him anyway.

“So was I,” I say.

Drew stares at me, gun still steady, but the smug expression on his face slowly drains away.

“What?”

“You deaf now? I said, so was I.”

His eyes narrow. “Your gun was pulling to the side.”

“I fixed it, you idiot.”

The realization hits him slowly. I watch the exact moment it lands—not everything, but enough. Enough to know I wasn’t aiming for his head. Enough to know the shot was never meant to hit him.

“Oh,” he says quietly.

“Yeah. Oh.”

The gun doesn’t lower, but something in him does.

I shut the door behind me and step farther into the room. Standing in my own entryway like I’m afraid of him pisses me off.

“As usual, your stupidity is fucking astounding. Ray sent me to stop you from killing Maverick and fucking up his deal,” I say. “That was it.”

“You think he’d choose that prick over you?” I shake my head. “He’s always had a soft spot for you—fuck knows why.”

Drew says nothing.