Casper's POV

The black car was driving away.

I knew I'd never get that image out of my mind for the rest of my life—or for what little was left of it.

"I'm satisfied," Jodi said. Then he snapped his fingers and, with a flick of his hand, ordered me back into the room.

That day I learned something new about myself: my proud instinct to rebel meant nothing when I had no one left to fight for.

I stepped back into the room.

Jodi closed the door.

He retrieved the gun from inside his jacket.

Staring down the dark hole of the barrel didn’t scare me. My life meant nothing now. But that car… that black car sliding away from me…

"You promised not to hurt her."

"And I always keep my promises," Jodi replied. "I have no interest in hurting your sister."

I saw her again, kicking in the arms of men who held her still. I heard her screaming my name… “Then why did you have to break her heart?”

Jodi smiled. "Oh no, Jack. You misunderstood me. It wasn’t her heart I wanted to break." He tilted his head and looked me over with satisfaction. “How did it feel? To destroy the last shred of trust she had in you, forever?”

She didn’t believe it. I had to hold on to that. But I didn’t dare say it out loud.

Carli’s life depended on it.

“You used to boast about being a merciful king. Where’s your mercy now, torturing me before killing me?”

“And where was yours,” he asked, with that polite eternal smile, “when you punctured my brother’s lung and left him to drown in his own blood?”

A scornful noise escaped me. “Don’t pretend you ever cared about Luther. You’re just a sadist.”

I saw Jodi move to strike, but I had no self-preservation left. The butt of the gun smashed against my temple.

I hit the ground, and I didn’t care. Not long ago, I wouldn’t have accepted dying lying on the floor.

What a stupid obsession. How many lives of the people I loved had I ruined over stupid obsessions?

“I truly cared about Luther,” Jodi said calmly. “He was the only person in the world I trusted completely. I never trusted him to finish a coherent thought, but I could’ve given him a knife and known he wouldn’t stab me in the back. Do you understand what you took from me?”

I didn’t care.

Jodi raised the gun again.

I closed my eyes and thought of Carli. I’m sorry. You’ll have to make it on your own now.

The gunshot hit me twice—once in the sound, once in the flesh. For a second, the noise was louder than the pain.

Then everything hit at once. Pain so intense I couldn’t even locate its origin. My breath caught in my throat.

Jodi’s image wavered; then sank slowly. He knelt beside me and lowered his voice.

“Remembered by all as a coward, a traitor, and a liar—until you’re forgotten entirely. A sad death, truly. I’m told a stomach shot hurts quite a bit. Yes, the agony can last for hours before the end. But don’t be afraid. No one’s coming to help. In the hours or days you’ll spend bleeding out in this room, you’ll find no ears around here are keen to respond to desperate cries for help. Still, feel free to try, if you’ve got the breath for it.”

Alongside the waves of agony, a deep and unfamiliar fear began to take over whatever was left of me.

Jodi stood. I tried to turn, to move, but all I could do was groan from the pain.

He was walking toward the door. He was going to leave me here. I didn’t fear the pain, what I feared was the time I’d have left to torment myself.

“KILL ME ALREADY, YOU COWARD!”

Jodi put a hand on the doorknob and turned. That smile of his finally twisted into a sneer.

“You know, funny thing, your brother Masao asked me the same thing before he broke and told me everything he knew about you. But don’t be disappointed in him. He held out for quite a while. Real shame you left him to die like tha—”

Jodi choked on the last word, because my hands were around his throat. Somehow, I was on my feet, and somehow Jodi was pinned to the wall, face red, eyes bulging.

Both his hands clawed at my wrists. The gun must’ve fallen.

I could kill him. I knew it in a flash of clarity. And he must’ve known it too.

I was bigger, younger, stronger. The pain of a bullet lodged in my gut meant nothing next to that terrible truth.

Masao. Little brother of mine.

Jodi’s nails carved red tracks down my arms. He still had just a whisper of air reaching his lungs—nothing more than a wheeze.

“C-a-a-r-l-i.”

I could make out her name in his rasping voice.

Carli. Carli. Carli.

I screamed from the agony of letting go. Jodi collapsed, landing on his knees, scraping for air.

I bent to grab the gun, and my own cry of pain reminded me of my impending death.

There was a river of blood running down my leg from my stomach. I limped to the door and, with all the strength I had left, hurled the gun into the darkness of the parking lot.

I turned back.

Jodi was trying to get up. His lips were blue, and sweet, fresh tears streaked his cheeks.

“You promised not to hurt her if I convinced her I wanted to leave her.”

Jodi nodded cautiously. Without the gun, without his men, alone in a room with me, he knew that fight might not end in his favor.

“I kept my end of the deal. So I’m done here.”

I turned my back on him and took a staggering step out of the room.

I couldn’t die yet. I had to save Carli. And then I could kill Jodi.

I hobbled to the motorcycle in the parking lot. The keys were still in, the engine warm.

By now, Jodi was surely calling his men to come get him, and to hunt me down. I had to move.

I saw nothing but white as I got on the bike. The pain pulsed with every heartbeat. I felt my strength draining.

I couldn’t pass out.

I couldn’t.