“I’m done. Thanks for coming, all of you, but I’ve got to work this out with my people. When you hear something about the hit, please let me know.” He took one more look around the room at the men there. Men he knew he could count on as friends if he’d allow them to be. He didn’t have friendships. He didn’t know how to have them. Looking at the men, every single one a hard, tough, battle-scarred leopard, but a good man, he wanted to belong with them. He just—didn’t.

Elijah Lospostos was probably the man who came the closest to being like him. He knew Elijah had killed his uncle to protect his sister, but he hadn’t wiped out a lair. He hadn’t killed his own father. He hadn’t committed the unspeakable crimes Alonzo had committed. His soul wasn’t so black that there was no redemption. Alonzo didn’t want Evangeline to pay the price for his sins and he feared, in the darkest recesses of his mind, that was exactly what the Universe had in mind.

I don’t expect redemption, he whispered to anyone listening. I’ll live with what I did. She’s innocent. Don’t take her away from me. Don’t do that. Because he wouldn’t want to maintain anymore. He would be as crazy and as vicious as his leopard. He wasn’t a good man. He didn’t know how to be, but for her sake he would try. Without her, what was the use of trying?

He found himself making promises to the devil with every step he took back down the hall toward the waiting room just outside of the surgery. Just save her. That’s all. Just save her. His soul was already gone, so what was the point in taking her?

Sevastyan and Gorya stepped through the doors of the waiting room before Alonzo, taking a quick but thorough scan of the room before moving aside and allowing him entrance. The moment he walked in, his male went insane, raging and clawing, bursting toward the surface so hard and fast, Alonzo could barely contain him. He inhaled and knew immediately why his leopard had gone so crazy. The three undercover cops were there in the waiting room. Brice Addler paced back and forth as if so distraught he couldn’t contain his energy.

Crispin Phillips and Reeve Hawkins lounged against the wall, talking quietly. They straightened abruptly when he walked into the room. Brice spun around, glared at him and strode toward him, his fingers curled into two tight fists.

“You did this,” he snapped. “You had no right being anywhere near her and you got her shot.”