I forced a laugh. “Have you seen that woman’s purse? Do you know how much shit she carries around? You could hide a goddamn puppy in the thing and she might not know it was there until it started howling for food.”

“Women,” was all Hennessy said. “But you be sure to let her know I’ll be in touch.”

We started for the door again, and I remembered something. “I might not have the gun, but I’ve got the round I test fired from it. It’s downstairs in the range.”

Hennessy stopped midstride and turned. “I don’t even want to know how this all unraveled, do I?”

I shook my head. “Does it matter?”

“Not as long as you’re telling me the truth.”

I met his stare and held it. “There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted to tell you less than that Mathieu was responsible.”

“I believe you. You know it’s not your fault, right? I see it all the time—some people are just wired wrong. No amount of saving is enough to set them right.”

I swallowed and shrugged off his comment. I had a long way to go before I’d feel absolved for my part in this. I locked up the warehouse and headed for the back door of Chains.

“I’ll be right back.”

Hennessy leaned up against his car. “I’ve got a shit ton of calls to make. Gotta track down the kid.”

It had to be done, but I still felt the words like a cheap shot to the kidney.

I unlocked the back door, punched in the code, and headed for the basement. I hustled down the stairs and hit the light at the bottom.

“Fuck.”

Mathieu sat in the folding chair, Elle’s gun held loosely in his right hand, barrel pointed at his face. An empty bottle was at his feet, and he clutched a half-full fifth of Wild Turkey in his left hand.

He looked up at me, and his eyes blazed with that crazy light I’d never noticed before last night. His knuckles were crusted with blood, and a deep cut sliced through his eyebrow.

“Shit, kid. You need a doctor.”

He laughed, and the rusty sound echoed in the cinderblock room.

“More likely gonna need a hazmat crew,” he said, lifting the gun and gesturing with it.

“There’s no need for that because you’re going to put the gun on the floor and kick it toward me.”

His chuckle was more muffled this time, because he was swigging from the bottle. When he pulled it away from his lips, he held it out toward me.

“You wanna share my last supper?”

“Mathieu, there’s no call for what you’re saying.” I kept my voice calm and even, thinking fast for a way to keep him from blowing his brains across the room. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t carrying. My .45 was tucked in the glove box of the ’Cuda.

“You shoulda been thanking me,” Mathieu said, his words slurring. “’Cuz you know that’s how things work on the street. We got each other’s backs. Can’t let someone disrespect you or we’ll be weak. You gone soft, Lord. Didn’t expect that from you. Thought you still knew the code. Lived the code.”

His ramblings were punctuated by the swinging gun and bottle. My only option was talking him down.

“I know you did it for me—and for Elle. You were protecting us, and I get that.” Even as I said the words, they rang false in my mind.

Mathieu shook his head. “No. You don’t know. You’re just sayin’ that shit so I won’t eat a bullet. Too fuckin’ late, man. Too fuckin’ late. I saw your face last night. I ain’t getting locked up for this shit. I’d rather be in the ground than a cell.”

“There’s no reason for that.”

He lifted the gun to his head again. “There’s every fuckin’ reason. You ain’t the brother I thought you were. I got no one. I got nothin’.” His thumb flicked the safety off. “I’m done. Made my peace. Time for me to cash out.”

Footsteps thudded down the stairs, and Mathieu’s eyes widened.

“What the fuck is taking you so goddamn long?”

The gun swung toward me as Mathieu registered Hennessy’s voice.

“You brought the fuckin’ cops.” His arm shook as his finger closed over the trigger.

My chest ached as I yelled the words that would give Hennessy a fighting chance. “Stay the fuck out of here!”

But Hennessy had already come too far—putting himself directly in the line of fire.

“Sorry, cop. You’re done.”

Mathieu pulled the trigger, and the deafening percussion of the shot filled the basement as I dove toward Hennessy.

Heat lit across my arm as I missed my target and three more shots rang out. I hit the concrete floor and slid toward where Hennessy had dropped to a knee and taken aim.

Static filled my ears, and I lifted a hand to my shoulder. It came away with only a slight smear of red.

“Fuck. He got you.” The words sounded muffled as Hennessy holstered his gun and lifted the sleeve of my T-shirt away from the wound.

“Barely,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Because I wasn’t worried about it. It wasn’t my first close call, but God-willing it’d be my last.

No, my eyes were on Mathieu’s crumpled body. Blood already pooled around him on the cement. I swallowed back bile as the reality of what had just happened hit me hard.

Hennessy caught the direction of my gaze. “I’m sorry, Lord. I didn’t have a choice. He fired first—”

The buzzing in my ears was starting to quiet. “Don’t. I know. He didn’t intend to leave this basement alive.”

Shock held my eyes on Mathieu, and I barely listened as Hennessy called it in.

The absolute madness of yesterday was crushed by the events of today.

Part of me couldn’t stop thinking I’d failed Mathieu on every level, and the other part of me recognized what Hennessy had said earlier: some people were just wired wrong. The crazy in Mathieu’s eyes hadn’t been the boy I’d thought I’d known. Somehow I’d looked right past it to the good that had always been there.

My thoughts were interrupted by Hennessy holding out a hand. “Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here so the techs can preserve the scene. They’re on their way. There’s a bus coming to check out your arm.”

I took his hand and stood. “I don’t need an ambulance. It’s just a graze.”