HANS: Alliance Series Book Four(98)

“There are more of us,” I promise. “I’m not—I’m sorry.”

I fight down a sob. They don’t need my sympathy.

They need me to keep my shit together.

“Come with⁠—”

Before I can finish, a door I hadn’t noticed on the far side of the room opens, and Gabriel Marcoux steps through.

I swing my gun up, shakily aiming at him, and steady it with my left hand.

“Isn’t this sweet.” He takes a menacing step forward.

“Stop!” My voice is hoarse, but I yell it as loud as I can and move farther into the room, putting myself between Gabriel and the women.

I can’t do much. But I can do this.

“What?” he laughs. “You’re going to kill me, an unarmed man, in cold blood?” He shakes his head. “You’re not like the women upstairs. Quit pretending to be.” He takes another step forward and points to the women behind me. “This isn’t about you.”

I think of the way Hans holds me like he’s afraid to lose me.

I think of those three lonely graves somewhere in this desert.

I think of all the women whose voices are never heard.

And I think about how much better the world will be without this piece of shit man in it.

“No, it’s not about me.” I take a breath. “But this fight belongs to all of us.”

I pull the trigger.





CHAPTER 121





Hans





A gunshot rings out through the basement, and I race after the blood smeared across the floor.

Cassandra.

I want to shout her name. I want to scream.

But my chest is so tight I can’t make a sound.

She’s already bleeding.

She’s already hurt.

My feet fly beneath me as I round the corner.

There’s an open door just ahead, and I swear I’ll give my life for hers if she can just be okay.

The gun in my hand is shaking. For the first time in twenty years, I’m shaking.

She has to be okay.

I brace myself as I reach the doorway.

But I’m not prepared.

Standing in the center of the awful room, between the man I’ve been chasing for two decades and three more of his victims, is Cassandra.

Her arms are stretched out in front of her. And she’s gripping a gun that’s pointed at Gabriel.

And there’s blood blossoming across his chest.

Cassandra lifts her aim, just a bit. “This one is for Freya.”

She fires.

For Freya.

A lifetime of guilt and torment unlatches from my soul as I watch the bullet penetrate Gabriel Marcoux’s forehead and blow out the back of his skull.

Blood and gray matter spray through the open door behind him.

It’s done.

The world shifts around me.

It’s truly done.

My beautiful Butterfly ended it.

She took my burden and made it her own.

My sister’s radiant smile flashes before my eyes.

Images of my family, my parents and Freya, sitting around the breakfast table flicker in my mind.

Memories of a time when we were all happy slip back into existence.

Reminders of who they were before…

A vision of me bringing my children to visit their grandparents’ graves presses me to the doorframe.

I haven’t visited them.

I couldn’t bear to face them, not until I put this to rest.

The dead body of Gabriel Marcoux falls to the floor.

It is over.

My family can finally rest.

And so can I.

Because of her.





CHAPTER 122





Cassie





“Butterfly.”

At the sound of Hans’s whisper, I drop the gun and turn.

I don’t even make it a step before he’s there. Before his strong arms wrap around me, and he lifts me against his body.

I circle my arms around his neck and hitch my legs around his hips.

My Hans.

He’s here. Right here.

Behind Hans, Karmine and several of her soldiers enter the room. Two of them step over Gabriel’s corpse to check the room he came from, while Karmine and the others go to the three women who are still standing along the wall.

“Thank you,” Hans murmurs into my neck, holding me tightly. “Thank you, Cassandra. My Girl. My Butterfly.”

Over and over, he thanks me, and all I can do is cling to him while I cry against his shoulder.

Tears of relief.

Tears from the fear I felt.

Tears for all of the women who have been through too much.

I hug Hans tighter.

I don’t know how he’s dealt with so much on his own. But never again. Never again.

“I love you.” I choke out the words.

He squeezes me to him until it’s hard to breathe. “I love you so fucking much.”

A small laugh bubbles up in response to him cursing while telling me he loves me.

I lift my head so I can look at him.

Blood is spattered across his face and in his hair. His eyes are rimmed red. And I swear I can feel his heart pounding through the thick vest he’s wearing.