Ryland
One aim. One pull of the trigger. One bullet. That’s all it took to end a man’s life. My reaction was quick, merciless, and final. I don’t even know the name of that man. All I see now is his face, frozen in death. His body lies in a pool of his own blood.
For ten years, I owned a gun. Every week I went to the shooting range and practiced. My aim became so good that I could hit the bullseye every time.
You think you know who you are. That if the time comes to take action, you’ll take it, and if it’s justified, there won’t be any guilt. But I was wrong. Dead wrong.
My family’s protection drove me to buy a gun, learn how to shoot it, and finally use it. When I aimed, I aimed to kill. I did it to save my brother. I would do it again to save Beckett or anyone in my family, but the repercussions of knowing I’m a murderer are harsher than I can bear.
And I’ll never know his name. We blew all the evidence up. Any scrap that could have been in the explosion is certainly at the bottom of the sea, lost forever, buried in the sand.
After the explosion, I don’t remember the rest of the boat ride back to the island. I woke up at Hudson’s and vaguely remember him telling me that he gave me a melatonin to sleep.
“Ryland?” Beckett’s voice tears me out of my thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“Agents Lòpez and Drake are here.”
Who is Drake? Where is Daniels?
“Drake?” I turn and see an angel in front of me. Fiery red hair that brushes her shoulders, green eyes with flecks of light, and luscious, heavenly lips.
She holds her hand out. “Agent Drake.”
Agent Drake. Nothing is registering.
She’s dressed way fancier than what you usually see on the island and definitely on my jobsites. The navy dress hugs her curves, and my eyes drift to her pert breasts, curvy waist, and perfect legs.
Even her kneecaps are sexy.
Agent Drake. Oh shit. Pull it together, Ryland.
I lock eyes with hers and shake the hand that she’s offering me.
“Ryland.” Javier sticks his hand out, and I slowly release hers, breaking eye contact with her.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
Javier peers closer. “The storm yesterday interfered with our cell phone service. I didn’t get your message until this morning. Is everything all right?”
“Is everything all right?” I don’t know. Is it? Will it ever be?
Hudson steps closer to Agent Lòpez. “You shouldn’t be here. We had a deal with Daniels.”
Javier nods. “Yes. Of course. It’s just that Ryland sounded desperate to speak with us yesterday. He didn’t answer his phone when I called several times this morning.”
Desperate to speak with them.
I gaze at Beckett as if he can somehow make sense of all this.
Yesterday. Everything happened yesterday.
“Can we talk privately? This really isn’t a good place,” Hudson says to the agents in a low voice.
Yesterday, when I made that phone call, I wasn’t a murderer. I clench my jaw and blink hard, trying not to cry.
Agent Drake is holding something out to me. “Here’s my information.” I reach for it and lock eyes with her.
Do you know I’m a murderer?
God, I have to get out of here.
I turn and walk away, not able to be near anyone so beautiful and angelic when I’m a cold-blooded killer.
Read SINS OF JUSTICE, book two of the Brooks Family Saga - click here.