forced to turn it and herself into the authorities tomorrow, she’d have to explain everything she knew about his involvement as well.
He waited long seconds for a response she just couldn’t give. Finally, he rubbed both hands over his face. “This is all I need right now.”
All he needed? Get in line, buddy.
He turned and looked around the room. “I’m soaked.”
“There are extra clothes in here.” Happy for the excuse to get away from him, she moved to the small closet and pulled out a fresh towel. “Not fancy, but dry.”
“Whose property is this?”
She froze. It was the one question she’d hoped he wouldn’t ask. She could tone down the violence of what had happened in that tomb. She could keep her emotions out of it when she told him the story. She could even fudge on the whys of what she’d done. What she couldn’t do was lie to him. Not about this. Because it had been an issue between them even before those last few days.
“Whose property, Kat?”
“Marty’s.”
“Oh, man. This is just fucking fantastic.”
He stalked toward her, jerked the towel from her hands and shoved the bathroom door open. “Why am I surprised?” he muttered. “Considering everything else, I shouldn’t be.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Pete, it’s not what you—”
“You know what?” He stepped into the small bathroom. “I don’t even want to know. Who the hell you screw isn’t my problem anymore. When the storm breaks, I’m gone.”
Her back went up. She wanted him gone, right? Then why was her chest suddenly stiff?
“That pickup in the back of the garage work?” he asked.
Startled, her mind flashed to the beat-up blue Ford F-250 she’d parked the limo next to. “Yes, I think so.”
“Good. Then I’ll take that and be out of your hair.”
“They’ll come looking for you.”
“Oh yeah?” When he glanced down at her, his eyes were hard and cold and the same steely gray she’d seen tonight in the alley when he’d had Busir pinned to the side of that building. This was the man she didn’t know, a side he’d kept carefully hidden from her. She’d never been afraid of him, but right now, she was. He looked like he could commit murder and enjoy it. “I can’t wait.”
“Pete—”
She never got to finish her statement. The door closed in her face. He didn’t slam it, didn’t even snap it shut like she’d expected. He simply clicked it closed and forced her out.
Then turned the lock so she couldn’t get near him again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Present day
Barcelona, Spain
His phone had a habit of ringing just as he was about to crash for the day.
Martin Slade groaned at the shrill notes and flopped onto his back. If it was important, whoever had the bad sense to bother him would leave a message. A man deserved two hours of shut-eye without interruption.
His phone ran through the high-pitched notes twice more before it stopped. On a deep sigh, he rolled to his side, bunched the pillow over his head and closed his eyes. Two seconds later, the sharp sound woke him again.
“Goddammit.” He threw the pillow aside and reaching for his cell on the nightstand. “Somebody better be dead.”
“Somebody already is.”
The agitation rushed out of him in a wave and was replaced by that familiar thump, thump, thump in his chest.
“Kat.”
“Hey, Marty,” she said softly. “Sorry to bother you.”
Katherine Meyer.
He pushed up in the pillows, rubbed a hand down his face. The beard he hadn’t shaved in three days itched, so he scratched his jaw in a crazy attempt to think of anything besides Kat’s angelic face and the fact she was the last person he expected to hear from and the only one he ever wanted to talk to. “No, you’re not bothering me. I was just trying to catch some Z’s, although it’s so damn light here, I wasn’t getting many even before you called.”
“Oh? Where are you?”
Shit. Open mouth, insert foot. He faltered. “Um…”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I understand.”
He knew she did, and it relaxed him. He leaned back against the scuffed headboard in his hotel, tucked his right hand against his opposite side and thanked God for the sweet distraction she created. Didn’t matter the reason she was calling, just that she had.
He tried to think of a way to keep her talking. Her voice had the softest lilt when she said his name. “Sunny here today,” he mumbled. “Way too bright in this dingy room.”
“I’m sure it’s better than snow. I’d trade sunny for just about anything right