Chapter 264 264

Chapter 264 264
MAD

“Terzo.” She rolled her eyes again. She was indeed the hitman. “Any more questions?”
“I expect a guy to be in this line of work.” 
“Don’t tell me you’re sexist. That’s not the type of man a princess should marry. I do a lot of things more than do the dirty work, and T wouldn’t urge me if it’s not important for him, too.” She stepped onto the yacht. I understood what she meant. Saywer saw Terzo’s face and knew a lot about him, too. “This is his backup plan if he can’t get away by air. He rented it under an alias.”
I followed her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I don’t share info with the person who hired me for the job. I do it with precision, clean, and no loose ends, and make sure it won’t tie to my employer.” She went down the lower deck. “Watch your step.”
“Yet you turned down the first time I wanted to hire you.”
“I checked you out. The reason why I turned it down is that you’re also a Vanderford. Terzo and his family had a history with Vanderford. Long story for another time.” 
Just as she finished talking, her head tilted back. The sharp pops echoed in the small space. 
I gasped. For the first time in months, I came face to face with Sawyer— the monster, my mortal enemy, the man in the sketch, and nothing like the man I thought I knew, my best friend. My ex-best friend.
I froze in my tracks. My heartbeat roared in fear and fury. It took me seconds to realize that he was free. He wasn’t dying or tied up. How did he get off his tie? Or the better question was, how was he as good as new, and how was he so good at this?
“Hello, best friend. I’ve been meaning to see you.” The Sawyer in front of me was nothing like Sawyer. Aside from pale, he had higher cheekbones and hollow cheeks, but his chin was still swollen, and there was puffiness under his eyes.
I almost did not recognize him if it wasn’t for his eyes, and the recognition as his cold gaze locked with mine. 
When I thought I was ready to face him, I was wrong. I didn’t need closure. There was nothing to close between us. What I wanted was for him to be locked up in a small windowless room or buried six feet below the ground.
He was carrying a wooden slab that looked like a wall panel, the one he used to hit Katie. While he was distracted, Katie managed to get back on track and kick him in the abdomen. He crashed down to the floor, hitting his back against the small counter. The slab fell, dropping a few feet away.
“Son of a bitch.” Katie grunted. “Get back up. Let me handle this!” she ordered quickly. When I didn’t move, she growled. “Now, Shanewood!” 
In just a split second, Katie regained her stance, but Sawyer was also on his feet, ready to fist-fight with Katie. Katie was Tall, but Sawyer was taller, and not to be sexist, stronger.
Terrified and panicking, I stepped back and turned on my heels, leaving Katie to deal with Sawyer. As I reached upstairs, I heard grunting, breaking, and clashing.
Panic. My panic button. 
Fueled by adrenaline, I pressed my panic button and ran back downstairs. They crashed on the floor, rolling on the small space while Sawyer was on top of her, ramming his elbow into Katie’s chest while punching her in the face. 
They were both bloody. Katie might have patched his wound, wrapping it in a white cloth. Ignoring my fear, I grabbed the slap on the floor and hit him as hard as I could on the head. 
Sawyer’s head barely snapped. His hands were now gripping Katie’s neck, squeezing the life out of her. 
“Motherfucker!” I wrapped my arm around his neck, choking his throat with all my strength. He instantly released Katie’s neck, and she started coughing hoarsely. 
Sawyer tried tucking his chin down into the crook of my elbow. When it didn’t work, he grabbed my arm, pulling it away from my neck. 
“You ruined my life, Sawyer. You need to die.” I groaned as I put all my strength into choking him as hard as I could. Yet, he was still struggling. He wouldn’t just give up. Instead, he used his head to strike me on my face.
My forehead exploded in pain, and I started feeling the room spin. Katie began to fight back while he elbowed me hard in the chest. I landed painfully on my side, my head banging into the step.
As I tried to scramble to my knees, I felt something cold. It was a gun, probably Katie’s. She dropped it while they fought. I picked it up. It’s cold and heavy. I held a gun before, but I never fired one. 
Before he could hit Katie again, I aimed at him and squeezed the trigger. The bullet missed, but the gunshot startled them, causing them to stop.
“The next bullet will be on your forehead.” I gritted my teeth.
Bloody and busted face, he smirked at me. “You don’t have the gut to kill someone. You’re not a killer, bro. You’re weak and pathetic.” He spat the blood from his mouth. “Go ahead. Pull the trigger.”
The gunshot resounded, startling me. His head jolted as the bullet shot through his forehead. Blood splattered, decorating the broken cabinet.
My mind went back to Tara’s story, and now I witnessed it beforehand. This was how she must have felt that day. 
My heart pounded in a sickening rhythm. With wide eyes, I stared at the shocked look on his face. Then his lifeless body dropped on the floor, blood pooling under his exploded head. His face turned colorless, and his eyes half closed. 
A surge of terror cleared my freezing brain as I sank to my knees. 
“Sir, are you hurt?” That was Nites, nudging me, taking the gun from my hand. That was when I realized I didn’t shoot Sawyer. I didn’t pull the trigger that killed him. “Sir?” He came to my front, checking for any injury, eyes boring into mine. “Breathe.”
Blinking, I nodded frantically and breathed.
“Are you hurt?”
Choking down the suffocating trauma, I shook my head, “I-I’m— I’m fine.”
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Behind me, Valentine said, grabbing me by my arm. “Get up, arsehole. I thought all this time you were with my sister.”
“Fuck.” Damian stood before Sawyer’s dead body with a gun in his hand. “I was looking forward to breaking him,” he said almost regrettably. 
I stood up as Damian helped Katie up, checking her injury. “Katja Rusov?”
“I go by Katie Miller and, among other aliases, Damian Rosenheim,” Katie gritted out hoarsely. “I shouldn’t have patched him up. He could have killed me. Asshole.”
Damian started talking to her in Russian, and then Valentine joined the conversation.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Nites urged, helping me out of the lower deck. I could barely walk straight. I felt like my bones were melting. 
As Nites stuffed me at the back of the car, he sprinted to the driver’s seat. 
I rubbed my face with my trembling hands, slumping in the seat. Before my mind raced with a lot of thoughts of what Damian found out, Valentine joined me in the backseat. Damian joined Nites in front, and then another one joined us.
“You’re not leaving without me, are you?” Katie said, groaning. Her voice is still hoarse.
We were stuffed in the backseat, which had me thinking. 
“Did you run to get in here so fast?”
“You’re not remotely funny.” Valentine glared at me. “What were you thinking? You could have died, leaving my sister grieving for her stupid fiancé trying to be a hero.”