pissed him off most. Just a damn pair of—”
“What did you tell him?”
Cal straightened up. The conveyor was still grinding away. Freaky sound. “Nothin’. Said I wasn’t working with Axel. That I didn’t sign up for any kidnapping.”
The boss swore.
“What? Why are you so mad? Look, I haven’t sold you out…yet.” He let the threat linger as the other man finally came closer. “I won’t, not if you pay me.” It was dangerous to push this way, he knew it. Especially since he thought this guy had killed Axel, but Cal hadn’t come unprepared. He’d grabbed his gun from its hiding place beneath the seat of his truck and tucked it in the front of his waistband. If he’d only had that gun on him when Antony Kyle had attacked back at the bar…
“Why would I pay you? You haven’t performed the job.”
He’d driven the freaking van like he’d been supposed to do. Should have all been so easy. They’d been told where the rich bastard would be. Axel had planned to throw Antony Kyle into the van. Then Cal would have driven away. Simple. But it hadn’t worked out. “I’m not goin’ to jail.”
“No, no, absolutely not.” The boss’s head lowered. “He just let you go?”
“Damn straight. He believed my story.” Cal’s hand inched toward the front of his shirt. The shirt hid the gun from view. He didn’t trust the man in front of him. “Give me what you promised, and I’ll walk away.” He held his breath. Waiting, waiting…If he had to do it, he’d pull his gun. There was no way he was walking out of that place without payment.
“Fine.” The boss raised his head and smiled. “The money is in a bag in the back. Let me just go and get it—”
He pulled out his gun. Aimed it. “No, you stay right where you are.”
The boss’s gaze dropped to the weapon. “What are you doing?”
What did it look like? “Protecting myself. I know you shot Axel. I’m not goin’ to be next.” He jerked the gun to the right. “Move over there. I’ll get the bag. You tell me exactly where it is, I’ll get it, then I’ll get the hell out of here.”
“Lower the gun.”
“No, not happening. Where is the fucking bag?”
“Go into the old office room on the right. There’s a desk in there. The bag is on top.”
Cal’s hold tightened on the gun. “Axel was my friend. Pretty much the only damn friend I ever had in my whole life. I know he wasn’t a freaking nice guy, but he had my back. He looked after me.” That was the whole reason Axel had come to him. To split the cash so they could both have a better run at things. “You didn’t have to shoot him.” For one moment, he imagined pulling the trigger. Letting the bullet hit the boss in the chest. He’d read that Axel had been hit in the chest.
“Are you going to shoot me?” The boss didn’t sound scared.
He should be. “If the money isn’t where you said it was, hell, yes, I will be back to shoot you.” He’d never shot anyone before. Fights were different from shooting. He’d never killed anyone. Could he do it?
Maybe. If I have to. He turned away and rushed for the door on the right.
Bam. It was weird. He heard the blast at the same time that he felt the pain hit him. It slammed into his back with the force of a punch. Except punches didn’t burn. This burned. It seemed to burn through skin and muscle and bone. Screaming, Cal tried to whirl around. He lifted up his weapon.
Bam. Bam. The bullets pounded into him.
“Amateur mistake.”
Cal sagged on the floor. The boss’s steps came closer.
“You never turn your back on anyone.” The boss lifted the gun. “Idiot.”
***
“Gunshots!” Ella heard them even before Antony had braked at the old factory. They’d followed the blinking red dot all the way out to this location. Driven past the sprawling gate. Down the old, twisting and pothole-filled road. They’d just reached the front of the building when the blasts rang out. Louder than fireworks. Deeper. Booming.
Antony opened the glove box and pulled out an extra pair of glasses—and a gun. She stared at the weapon in his hand, jolted for a stunned moment by the ease with which he carried it.
Antony slid his glasses into place. “Stay here,” Antony ordered.
“What?” She yanked out her own weapon from her bag. Not the Taser