What I Would Do For You - W. Winters Page 0,46

too slowly.

Roses. Red. Blood. Roses. Red. Blood.

Again I’m bombarded by images and confronted with the gruesome reality, unable to pretend I’m not terrified. “Please don’t hurt me,” I say, and my plea is joined by a half-backward step of my bare feet on the floor.

I’ve never wanted to run so much in my life.

“Nothing I want to do to you involves pain.” Marcus’s answer calms the fight-or-flight instinct just barely.

“What do you want?” I repeat the question, attempting to numb myself as I trace the outline of his shadow with my eyes and inwardly curse Cody. How could he have gotten in here? How utterly useless is this protective detail?

“The note, it came from the desk of a man called Herman.” Marcus seems to huff a laugh at the name.

“Herman threatened me?” I ask quietly and calmly, although every inch of my skin pricks with fear. With my head tilted, and my voice sounding subservient more than anything, I brace myself with a hand on the counter and it takes every fiber of my being to listen. I settle on telling him the truth.

“Herman. I don’t know a Herman.”

I sound ridiculous to my own ears. I like to think of myself as a good actress under pressure, but my abilities seem to be failing me.

“He was hired to protect them. He paid off the cops who tampered with the evidence of your case that was just dismissed.”

“The case against Ross Brass?” I question, little pieces of the puzzle falling into place. My tired mind catching up on details. Ross Brass was let go after evidence was handled improperly. “Ross paid this man to get him off and to threaten me?”

“Yes.”

“Why threaten me? Why—” Before I can practically fall into the familiar steps of conducting an interrogation to uncover motive, Marcus answers simply. As he speaks, his shadow shifts, and the floor creaking drags my gaze back to him.

“Because you mocked him. You bruised his sensitive ego. Apparently he doesn’t like the notion of rotting in hell.” His words sink in, my mind finally filled in and crisper than it was ten minutes ago. I’m not certain I believe Marcus. To threaten someone under the DEA… after he got off scot-free? He’d have to be an idiot to do it.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do.”

“How can I prove that?”

His answer comes just as quickly as my question. A tit for tat, a back-and-forth. Although I don’t care for his conclusion. “You can’t.”

The revelation sits between us, the air thickening. My initial thought was that the threat was from Ross in some way, but not directly. A fan or an accomplice. If they rot, you rot with them.

“You didn’t sleep and I thought the information would give you some peace.” Marcus’s comment brings me back to the present. To the other monster taking control of my life.

“That’s why you’re here?”

“That and to tell you those men outside are unreliable and can’t be trusted.”

“If they knew you were here—”

“They wouldn’t do anything because Taylor’s right-hand man works for Brass. He’s in his pocket.”

“No—”

He cuts me off, saying, “Taylor you can trust, but I wouldn’t count on the others.”

He’s met with silence as the heat kicks on and I’m suddenly very aware of how the lowered temperature has wrapped itself around me.

“I’ll protect you.”

“Why?” The single word leaves me breathless as I stare at the unmoving shadow. Why me? Why does he care? I have to ask and fear settles inside of me, knowing that wasn’t the right move. For some mysterious reason, this man feels a connection between us; I’m only safe because of that. With a cold sweat lingering on my skin, I know I’ve messed up.

Marcus doesn’t answer. Instead he says something entirely unexpected.

“I know you’re going to want to tell him. You trust Cody more than me. I’m all right with that. I accept it and he’ll be able to pull strings I can’t. Tell him.”

There’s a pain etched in his voice and I hate that I feel sympathy. I shouldn’t feel anything for this man.

The shadow moves, an arm raising as he adds, “I’m going to leave a USB flash drive with some files for you.”

“Why are you helping me?” I question him further, needing an answer. Tell me the truth, Marcus, a voice pleads in the back of my head.

He ignores me, taking a small step forward as he says, “I want you to close your eyes and when you do, I’m going to come near you.”

My

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