He had no doubt she’d heard him drive up and was probably armed to the teeth, ready to fire if she didn’t realize it was him. Better to sit and let her come to him. After all that had happened in the past day, she was probably on high alert, even when it came to him. Approaching the house with his hands raised would tip the advantage in her favor. His hands. He stared at his fingers, expecting to see red. Despite the double layer of latex gloves he’d pulled on, the warmth of fresh blood had seeped through, a sensation he’d never been able to wash away easily. He’d checked each body for signs of life, even though the amount of blood made life impossible. Isaac’s whole crew was dead. Everyone except him. He slammed a fist against the steering wheel. This was his fault. He’d lost control of the situation, let his guard slip when Meghan had gotten involved. He cleaned other people’s messes, stepped in when it was too hot for anyone else to handle.
