This could be possibly how it ends, right? He was going to die in this stupid book. If only he had ignored Ashley and her insistence that he read Guns and Roses.
He'd known Cassian was ruthless, but hearing it, seeing the unreadable flatness in his eyes. Elias felt the air leave his lungs. His pulse pounded so hard he thought he'd pass out. Cassian's finger tightened around the trigger.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Elias's chest heaved against Larsen's arm as panic kicked in. His mind screamed, He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care! He's going to let me die! His fingers shook, clutching at Larsen's arm even though he knew it was useless.
"You should've known better, Larsen," he said, voice smooth as glass. "You don't touch my business. Not my people. Not my territory."
Larsen's breath hitched, his own gun pressing harder against Elias's skin. "Fuck off," he spat. "This isn't your—"
The gunshot tore through the sentence.
