A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(43)

“Wait.” He pressed his fingers to his ear, indicating he had an earbud and was listening to someone.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

While she listened to Grey’s one-sided conversation, her eyes swept the lobby behind them. While one part of her mind was taking in the beautiful interior, she was looking for a killer. There were about a dozen or more people in the lobby, and all were GJG employees. The assassin wouldn’t strike here. Too many people to get in the way. He would want a more private place where he could do the job and then slip out without being noticed.

“I’ve got to go,” Grey said. “They’ve caught him.”

Relief made her already weak knees turn to jelly. She hadn’t dared believe it could be that easy. “I need to go with you. I need to talk to—”

“No. What you need to do is go home and go back to bed. I can’t believe you came here. You’ve got to be as weak as a kitten.”

She didn’t tell him that she was properly motivated. Ensuring he stayed safe would always come before her health. And this time, there was an additional reason she’d needed to be here.

“Grey, you don’t understand. I need—”

“Irelyn, please.” Surprising her, he leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, “Do this one thing for me. I promise that when I get home, we’ll sort it all out.”

“Okay,” she whispered. As she watched him stride away, she huffed out a sigh. Arguing was pointless and would only delay him. She had come here for a purpose. It was imperative that she be there when they interviewed the assassin.

Watching him go up a small staircase, she followed Grey at a distance. When he walked out onto the stage, she was only a few steps behind. From what she could remember, there were offices on the other side. This was probably where they were holding the assassin.

A noise, softer than a whisper, sounded. The blood-red curtain covering the screen fluttered, and the muzzle of a gun appeared.

“Grey!” she screamed.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Irelyn watched in horror as her worst nightmare came true. Grey fell forward as three bullets hit him in the back.

Please be wearing a vest…please, please, please be wearing a vest.

The assassin emerged from behind the curtain. His face devoid of all emotion, he ignored her as he walked to his prey. She knew the drill. He would take a headshot to ensure success.

Gun in hand, she called out “Kevin!”

The man jerked, as if surprised she knew his name. Recognition and something like amusement gleamed in his eyes. A small smile stretched his mouth into a smirk. The gun in his hand switched directions and was now pointing at her.

“Hello, Irelyn. Long time no see.”

She lowered her own weapon and spoke softly, gently, “Kevin. You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, but I do.”

They froze like that for a moment. She searched for the right words, anything that would break through the years of training and abuse she knew he had endured. Familiar gray eyes stared into her own, and she swore she had made a connection. She gave him the only words she could come up with. “I’m so sorry, Kevin.”

His head tilted, and confusion flickered on his face. Had she reached him? Would he—

As if he realized he’d shown a weakness, his face went blank once more.

Every instinct in her body told her to raise her own weapon. Instead, she stood frozen, watching as he steadied the weapon in his hand and aimed it, center-mass, at her.

“Irelyn!”

Grey’s voice sent relief through her bloodstream. Thank you, God. He was all right.

Anger and something like betrayal flickered in Kevin’s eyes. He whirled back around to Grey again.

“Kevin! No!”

“Stop!” several voices shouted at once.

The shooter looked around, saw five elegantly dressed people all pointing weapons at him. Shrugging, he held up his hands.

“Drop your weapon!” Nick shouted.

He dropped his gun.

“Now, put your hands behind your head, get on your knees.”

He bent his knees, getting ready to kneel. In a flash, another gun appeared in his hand, and he shot at Grey.

“No!” Irelyn screamed as she fired her weapon. She didn’t wait to see the man fall as she ran to Grey. Her eyes quickly roamed over him, searching for signs that he’d been hit.

Wrapping his hands around her waist, Grey whirled her around, putting her behind him. “I’m fine. I’m wearing a vest. He missed the second time.”

Shivering in reaction, she peered over Grey’s shoulder. Nick, Jonah, and Kathleen stood over the fallen man. She didn’t need to ask if he was dead. She was a killer. She knew how to get the job done.

If she’d had more time, perhaps she could have winged him. Would that have made a difference? Assassins were taught to ignore pain, to do whatever it took to accomplish their mission. With his last breath, he would have taken another shot. But still her mind reviewed her choices. Would winging him have worked? She would never know. Her only thought had been to protect Grey.

“He’s dead,” Jonah said.

The man she had never known but had known all the same. Another person she should have been able to save and couldn’t. Sadness as she hadn’t felt in years swept through her.