Daniel’s instincts screamed don’t. They howled inside his skull like feral dogs tearing at old scars.
“Why the f**k are you laughing,” Daniel demanded, his voice low, vibrating with something barely restrained. “You’re bleeding out. You’re seconds from f*****g death. What’s so goddamn funny?”
Drake’s laughter only grew louder. It was a mocking amusement.
“Ha ha ha” Drake wheezed, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth, his chest heaving unevenly as the bullet wound pulsed wet and angry. “Oh f**k… oh my God… you don’t even know…”
The sound hit Daniel like a hammer.
His vision blurred.
His hands flew to his head, fingers digging into his hair as if he could claw the noise out of his skull. The laughter echoed, bouncing violently off memories he had buried so deep even he pretende
