There, on the street below, Karl had Sonny on the ground, one knee on his back, hand wrapped in his hair, head pulled back so far that with the barest tug, his neck would snap.

Karl slammed Sonny’s face into the pavement.

Where is she?

I opened my mouth to shout. Then I saw Sonny’s hand, sliding from under his jacket. Karl didn’t notice, too focused on his task, the chaos waves even from this distance so sharp and hard they stopped the breath in my throat. Sonny’s hand slid out. His gun in that hand.

“Karl!” I screamed.

Jaz shoved me aside. He aimed his gun. It was too far. Too dangerous. He let out a strangled cry and jumped onto the railing, as if ready to leap off it.

A growl. A shot. A snap.

The last somehow seemed loudest, though I heard it only in my head. Heard it. Felt it. Saw it. The whites of Sonny’s eyes, rolling as his neck snapped. His face going slack. Head falling to the pavement.

HOPE DEATH WISH

HOPE

DEATH WISH

“No.” The word was barely a whisper. Jaz tottered on the railing. One lunge and I could have pushed him off. He toppled backward, half falling, half stepping down.

“No.”

He collapsed where he was and sat there, clutching the railing bars, Sonny’s name on every breath. His grief washed over me, so strong it blocked the death and held me as tight as any binding spell, unable to move.

I looked at the gun on the ground, dropped beside Jaz. I looked back into the parking garage.

“Don’t,” he rasped.

He still sat there, clutching the bars, face pressed to them, watching his brother’s body below.

I took a step back.

“They’re coming.” He rubbed his hands over his face, swiping at the tears. “Don’t leave me here.” He picked up the gun by the barrel and held it out. “Finish it, Hope.”

“You—you want me to—”

“I killed Paige. Killed Guy. Killed Bianca. Helped kill Rodriguez and Max and Tony. You want to do this.”

I stared at the gun.

“And if revenge isn’t enough…” He met my gaze. “Maybe pity is. I want to go with Sonny. Don’t let the Cabal take me. Please.”

I took the gun. Wrapped my fingers around the stock.

“Through the mouth. Or the back of the head. That’s the quickest.” A tiny, tired smile. “Maybe not the most chaotic, but if you get something from this—” His eyes lifted to mine. “Take what you can, Hope. My last gift to you.”

If he wanted to die, all the more reason to say no. Punish him. Turn him over to the Cabal. Make him stand trial. Let them execute him. But standing here, looking into his face, I still saw Jaz, and I still felt something. Maybe only pity, but it was enough.