32

People thought killing didn't bother me, and for the most part, it didn't, but at a certain point, it had taken a toll on me. I'd lost track of the men I'd killed since leaving Logan. Thanks to Smoky Vale's crappy economy, the hospital wasn't that big, which helped as I navigated floors.

I had a task to do, but I stopped at the sound of a woman crying. I pushed open the door. Shit. One of those fuckers was assaulting her. A thought flashed through my mind. What would Logan do? So I blew a hole into the fucker, which alerted another one. Thankfully, none of the patients had been hit in the crossfire, but now they knew someone was in the building coming after them.

"Thank you! Thank you!" the woman cried, but her thanks meant nothing to me. If I hadn't intervened, I might have gotten a few more before they became aware of my presence.

I looked at the dying man on the floor. All the men I'd killed had been wearing black. The only difference between them and me was the mask. I rolled the dead man over with my foot and forced the mask from his head. My stomach roiled at the morbidity of it all, but I clenched my teeth and slipped on the mask. It was a bit too big, but it would have to do.

The woman told me the patients weren't being targeted. They would be spared if they stayed in their rooms. Good for them. Now I had to save the one person I cared most about. The man who'd been there for me through my episodes and stayed. The man who didn't shun me when I peed his bed.

With the mask covering my face, I left the room and ventured to the first floor. Their new leader was with the hostages. According to the man I'd blinded, his name was Magnus and he was using the opportunity to get greedy. His demand wasn't only for Logan's surrender as a hostage to save the others but also to be guaranteed a safe passage out of town with a hefty sum of unmarked bills.

As soon as I reached the next floor down, I ran into two henchmen. Now was the chance to see if the mask worked. As I walked past them, they nodded but otherwise didn't spare me a second glance. Big mistake. With their backs to me, I easily took them out.

More confident in my acquired disguise, I ran for the stairs.

The first floor was a maze of corridors leading off in all directions. I took one and walked with purpose, keeping an eye on the corners and listening for any sounds of movement. It felt like walking through the belly of a beast, each step taking me deeper into its guts.

If I got out of this alive, I would never stop wearing black. For all the motherfuckers who'd made fun of me for always wearing black, my fashion sense was saving the day. I slipped into a visitors' bathroom to get my bearings. The mask was stifling, and the coppery tang of blood was so strong I could all but taste it on my tongue.

I checked my ammo, pleased the gun from my last victim was still fully loaded. I placed the weapon on the vanity, yanked off my mask, and splashed cold water on my face.

How was Logan doing? Did he forgive me for restraining him? He would have plenty of time to get over it because he wouldn't die today. I would see to it. How dare these assholes threaten his life? No one could blame me for being ruthless. Not this time.

The bathroom door creaked open, and a tall figure, clad in black, entered, his face hidden behind a similar mask. I lowered my head, letting my hair fall over my face to partially obscure it. Hopefully, he wouldn't take a good look at me.

"Hey, man." He turned the tap on. "What a shit show this has turned into, ain't it?"

I grunted, shifting my gaze from him to my gun on the counter. His was in his hand. What were the odds he had a bullet in his head before he shot me?

"This is such fucking bullshit. I ain't gonna get myself killed because of Magnus. We should have left when Two Fingers and the rest of them died, but no, he's after that doc who blew Two Fingers in half. We all knew the two were fucking, but that's his personal fight, not ours. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah." I deepened my voice.

"He has no way out. He's already shot a doctor and a nurse, but I didn't kill no one. I can still walk away before we wind up being fucked. By the number of us who have been killed, several cops are already inside. So what're you doing? You staying with Magnus or turning yourself in?"

"Staying."

He looked at me through the mirror. "You're a brave motherfucker." He narrowed his eyes. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen you before."

Fuck, I'd been made. I grabbed my gun but had no time to aim, so I slammed it hard against his temple. He staggered against the sink, grabbing it for balance. I didn't let him recover but hit him again, this time he crumpled to the tile floor.

"Wait!"

I fired two shots into his chest. His body jerked with the impact, then lay still, slumped against the bathroom tiles, a crimson pool spreading out from beneath him.

Shit. Someone must have heard the gunshots. I quickly pulled my mask back on and slipped out of the bathroom. I'd been at the hospital several times, and it'd never been this quiet. At the intersection of hallways, a sign pointed at a door with the word "lunch room." Magnus would be inside with the nurses and doctors he'd taken as hostages.

I approached the door, my heart pounding, my palm sweaty on the grip of the gun. The sounds were muffled here, distorted into a distant hum. I reached for the doorknob, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

I pushed the door open. A burly man with a wild beard and piercing blue eyes pointed his gun at the nurse who Logan had made me apologize to. The woman was crying, her white uniform torn and dirty. Blood dripped down her leg from a wound on her thigh.

"It's your turn, sweetheart," Magnus said. "Your precious doctor doesn't care about your life. He'd rather you all die than give himself up."

"Please, I have a daughter who needs me."

I scanned the room, my stomach dropping. Magnus wasn't alone. The hostages sat with their backs together on the floor in the center of the room. At a table were three other men, all with guns, watching the sight unfolding with grins of approval.

If I killed Magnus, I would still have them to deal with. The one thing I had working for me was that they sat away from the hostages, making it less likely for me to accidentally shoot any of them.

I need to get closer.

Neither Magnus nor the men at the table spared me a glance. So many of their men must have come and gone several times. I took this as my cue and casually walked over to a vending machine in the corner of the room.

"You're just in time to join the party," the bald one said, his eyes fixed on his amusement. "Want to join our bet? We're trying to see how many workers Magnus kills before the doctor turns himself in."

"Cree!" Magnus bellowed, saving me from responding.

"Yes, sir?"

"Get the camera rolling."

Cree jumped to his feet, leaving his gun on the table next to the other two men. Now the odds were more even. I only had to take out two before I focused on Magnus and Cree in that order. As much as I would like to save Magnus for last and torture the fucker until he begged me for mercy, he had a weapon; Cree didn't.

Taking a deep breath, I approached the table under the pretense of taking the seat where Cree had sat. Cree was standing a few away from the scene, his phone held high. The fucker was streaming it live. The nurse was sobbing and begging, and many of the others had turned their faces away.

"This is barbaric." A short man with sharp cheekbones rose to his feet. "You can't keep killing us for something we have no control over. Dr. Collier won't turn himself in. Why don't you—"

Magnus shot the man in the leg. "Your time will come soon enough. Are you so eager to die?"

Face pale, the doctor crumpled to the ground, groaning. The woman closest to him took off her jacket and pressed it against the wound.

"Now where were we?" Magnus turned slowly to face the phone Cree was using to record. "Another hour has passed, and Dr. Collier has yet to show up. Normally, I would take one life, but reports are that the cops have entered the hospital despite my warnings to stay away. To show you how serious I am, I will take two lives instead, and the police department has no one to blame but themselves. Remember, you had a choice of bringing me what I needed to get out of this hospital."

Fucking idiot. Did he expect to get what he wanted? He was as good as dead. If not at my hands, then at one of those sharpshooters who would be on the scene if they weren't already. How could he not know this whole fiasco would wind up in history as the most nonsense attack on a hospital? Or did he already know and think he could be immortalized? I'd watched enough documentaries about serial killers and mass shooters to know that some chased fame rather than escape.

"Look at the camera, sweetheart." Magnus jerked the nurse's head up by the hair. "Tell us your name."

I'd had enough. With them all so invested in the livestream, this was my chance. The two onlookers died without seeing me raise my gun, but the loud explosion echoed in the room. People screamed, lying flat on the ground.

Magnus and Cree spun around, eyes wide. "Drop it," I said.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Magnus said. "You're betraying me? Did Luthor put you up to this?"

"I don't know any Luthor." Slowly I approached. "I'm the shadow who protects the man you want to kill. To get to him, you have to go through me."

Magnus frowned. "You? Have you been the one killing my men?"

"Bingo. Slowly put the gun down."

He didn't move. "Impressive. You sure you don't want to join my side? With your kind of raw talent, we could rule Smoky Vale, get rid of those bikers once and for all."

"You don't know when to quit, do you? I am a Blood Hound, you fucking idiot. Put the gun down."

"All right, all right." He stooped slowly to do what I asked. But at the last minute, he shifted the gun to point straight. I pulled the trigger three times. He cried out, falling to the ground in a lifeless heap.

I tuned him out. Cree was on the move, ducking low and reaching for his gun. My first shot went wide. The second hit his arm, and the third slammed into his gut just as the heat of a bullet seared my temple. A surge of pain clouded my vision, but I fought it down, refocusing on the threat before me.

Cree groaned, his face contorted in agony as he clutched his wounded arm. His gun had skidded away on the blood-slick floor. I took two big strides, kicked his gun farther away, and planted a boot firmly on his chest.

And shot him in the head.

Silence cloaked the room. The surviving hostages rose to their feet. Some sobbed quietly while others clung to each other, dazed and trembling. They watched me nervously, not sure if I was friend or foe.

Better for them not to see my face after what they'd witnessed me do.

A loud crash sounded as the door was kicked in. I spun around, raising my gun, prepared to battle. Flashes of blue and red danced across the walls. The police were finally here.

"I see one!" someone shouted. My chest was on fire. The world dimmed around me, and the ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet. Someone screamed.

"Nooo! He's not the bad guy!"

I touched a hand to my chest, where the fire was spreading, then brought it up to eye level, even as my vision blurred. Blood. So this was it. This was how I was going to die, not for the bad things I had done but for the one good deed I'd ever done in my life.

I fell to my knees.

"You shot the wrong man."

Someone caught me before I face-planted. Gentle hands lowered me to my back. Why was everything white? I couldn't be going to heaven. I knew better than that. A face hovered over mine.

"Hang in there. By god, you're not going to die. Not after everything you've done."

But it was too late, wasn't it?

Crowe, forgive me.

Logan…

For you, I'd do it all again.