here, and damn it, if they were bringing down Jason, I was going to be in on the fucking bust. I left the table, pulled up his number and was so pissed I didn’t appreciate I wasn’t alone until I felt the barrel of a gun against my back. “Make a scene and I ruin that pretty dress.” He pulled the phone from my hand and dropped it on the floor. He nudged me with the gun and demanded, “Move.”
My anger grew, being caught off guard, but, as the reality of my situation settled, fear crept in. I didn’t want to go with him; my feet were rooted to the floor. I wanted to make a scene, but feeling that cold steel against my back, and the thought that he could pull the trigger and, just like that, my fairy tale was over, I kept my cool, but that fear I kept buried came bursting out, the idea of never seeing Kade again, that our story ended like this, that he’d be left to pick up the pieces had my eyes burning. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had something to fight for, to live for. I had to play along, needed to wait for the right moment, and hope like hell, there was one.
I started to move; my feet felt like lead. I wanted so desperately to look for Kade, to get his attention, but the room was so crowded, and the man pressing the gun into my back wasn’t wasting time. And I realized, in that moment, that this was exactly what Kade had been trying to prevent. He had gone behind my back because he wanted me safe, he wanted the case closed, and he wanted a life with me. And I’d let my temper and ego walk me right into trouble. And I was in trouble because I was unarmed and alone and was sure this man was taking me to Jason Benjamin, bringing me face-to-face with the cold-blooded killer responsible for so much death.
He took me out a side door and down a hall. There was so much activity, no one noticed us. We moved through the crowd practically unseen. And with each step that took me away from the Kade, the stronger the feeling grew that I wasn’t going to see him again. We stepped outside; he stayed to the shadows, until we reached a car. I couldn’t get in that car with him; it was blind panic now because I knew what awaited me with Jason. History was repeating itself. Like Katrina, I was more valuable to him dead. Even if I got shot, I had to get away. I was just about to make my move when a sharp crack to my skull had everything going black.
When I came to, I was tied to a chair. I pulled at my wrists, but I was tied tight. My head was killing me, and I was pissed, but I looked around, trying to get my bearings, looking for exits, ways out. Fear rose up to meet anger. The shadows moved, right before a man stepped from them. I didn’t recognize him, but he was unraveling, the gun he held shaking in his hand.
“It’s all going to hell,” he said, turning to me. “It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Stir shit up, but fuck.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “You’re Terence Baker.”
He stalked over to me and pressed the gun to my forehead.
Terror raced through me leaving numbness behind. My breath caught waiting for him to pull the trigger. The only thought in my head was Kade. I closed my eyes, bringing up his face.
He moved away from me, as he talked to himself, like he hadn’t just put a fucking gun to my head. Anger hit then, as did determination.
“He killed him,” Terrence said, pacing again. “He fucking killed him.” He turned wild eyes on me. “He was going to kill me, too. Told me if I brought you here, he’d spare me.” I pulled at my restraints again, violently, this time, from both anger and fear. He really was serving me up to a monster. “Don’t you fucking do that,” he said, pointing the gun at me again.
Wanting to distract him, so I could work on my restraints, I asked, “Who wants me?”
I heard the shot, the surprised look on Terence’s face, before he dropped dead from the bullet to the head.
My head whipped around, as I