Camden's Redemption (Gloves Off #4)(55)



As quietly as I could, I walked up the stairs and checked the first bedroom. Nothing. Then I opened the door to my old room and didn’t find a thing. Everything was clear but I still had one more room to look in. It was the last bedroom on the left. The door was shut so I opened it and stormed inside. Again, nothing. Nothing was out of place. What the hell did I hear?

Releasing a heavy sigh, I turned on my heel and headed back downstairs. I was seriously losing my f*cking mind. And where the hell was my phone? Maybe I left it outside . . . Opening the back door, a voice called out.

“Going somewhere?”

Jerking around, I slammed the door and glanced around the room. There was someone in my house, but I couldn’t see where or who they were. And it wasn’t a female. “Who are you?” I growled.

“What, you don’t recognize my voice?”

I’d heard it before, but couldn’t tell which cocksucker it was. All I knew was that it was one of the guys from Charlotte. The time had come. “Why don’t you stop being a * and show yourself? It took you long enough to come after me.”

He came out of the shadows. It was Gabe. In his right hand was a f*cking gun which was pointed at the ground. “What can I say? I wanted to make you sweat. Why don’t you come away from the door so we can have ourselves a chat?”

He was too far away for me to fight him so I did what he said and joined him in the living room. “Who exactly are you?”

Taking a seat on the armrest of the couch, he smiled and pointed to his face. “You don’t see the family resemblance?”

The more I looked at him, it all started to fall into place. He had the same dark eyes and crooked smile. How the hell did I miss it? “You’re Scar’s brother?”

“Half brother, actually. I guess you were too hard up over B to notice. At least I don’t have to worry about that much longer.” Before I could lunge at him, he pointed the gun at my chest. “I don’t think so, Striker.”

“You stay the f*ck away from her,” I hissed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she has a shoulder to cry on at your funeral. We’ve gotten pretty close over the years. Everything should fall into place naturally.”

“Like she would ever have anything to do with you once she finds out who you are. You shot her for Christ’s sake,” I shouted venomously. “She’s smart; she’ll figure it all out.”

Snarling, he moved closer. “That bullet was meant for you, not her. The plan was simple. Get rid of you and go back to a normal life. I tried to tell Mason he was a fool for putting her on your case but he wouldn’t listen.”

“And now you’re here to do your brother’s bidding. Kind of pathetic if you ask me. It’s a shame you’re too much of a chicken shit to fight me fair.” My time was running out and I knew I had to do something fast. Talking was only going to get me so far; he was determined to end this.

“I know more about fighting than you’d think.” Reaching behind his back, he kept his attention on me as he pulled out a suppressor and attached it to the gun. “I just hate I don’t have the time to show you.” He lifted the gun and put his finger on the trigger. I had to make my move. “See you in hell, Jameson.”

One . . . two . . . I ducked on three and lunged. A pain like I’d never felt before exploded in my shoulder, ripping right through my skin. I tackled Gabe to the floor and the gun slid across the room, out of reach. Blood poured down my arm, but I didn’t have time to think about that. All I wanted to do was make him pay. We landed on the floor and I reared back and punched him on the side of the face, followed by an elbow jab. Blood poured from his nose and he growled, returning the sentiment with a punch to my shoulder. I clenched my teeth, sucking in an angry breath, but my moment of pain lost my momentum.

Getting to his feet, Gabe charged after me and knocked me back down on the floor. His arm came around my neck and squeezed, cutting off my air. “That’s right, keep fighting jackass. The more you fight, the more you bleed.” My left arm was going numb and blood was going everywhere. Fuck. Eventually, I would bleed out. There was no way in hell I was going to let him win.

Grabbing his arm, I pried it away from my neck just enough so I could head butt him in the chin. His head snapped back into the coffee table, not once but three times as I slammed him into it. He grunted with the impact and his hold loosened. But I wasn’t letting go. With his wrist in my hand, I twisted his arm and laughed when he shouted in pain.

“Let’s see how you fight with one arm. It’s only fair.” I growled as I pulled and twisted his arm, hearing the snap and pop of his bones as they broke and pulled out of the socket. He shouted and looked down at his limp arm, his eyes blazing in fury.

“You are so dead,” he thundered.

That’s when I saw the gun. It was only a few feet away from him. Unfortunately, he followed my line of sight and saw it too, lunging before I even had the chance, Gabe picked up the gun and slowly turned to me. His eyes went wide and a shot echoed through the room.

I blinked, wondering why I hadn’t felt any pain.

Dropping the gun, Gabe looked down at his chest, at the blood soaking through his shirt. He fell to his knees and focused on something behind me. I turned to look and standing there, with a gun still pointed at his chest, was Brooklyn. Her tear stained face focused only on him.

L.P. Dover's Books