You Know I Need You (You Are Mine #4) - Willow Winters Page 0,66

looks at her with disbelief. “No way. She’s done.” He’s good at convincing her this will work, even though I’m still not convinced. If anything, I know nothing is bulletproof.

A moment passes and I let my hand slip to the small of her back. It takes everything in me to assure her, “It’s done. This will work and it’s done.” There’s a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing either one of them could mention my name. I could go down too. But it’s a risk I have to take for all this to be over. I can’t outrun it and I’m willing to take a deal, I’m willing to do anything to put an end to it all.

“Good,” Kat says with finality.

“Do you need me to do anything?” I ask Mason as Kat cradles her body against mine.

“I can take it from here, but I’d stay inside and keep a low profile until there’s word about the arrest.”

I give him a tight smile then lean down to kiss Kat’s hair, savoring every moment. I’m doing it for her. With my throat tight and everything inside me ringing, I whisper, “Let’s go home, baby.”

One week later

“Is he in there?” I ask Mason as we sit in the car.

Andrew Jones, also known as Mathew Staller, is about to meet his maker. The man who sold Samantha the drugs, helped her plan a murder, and got off with nothing has to pay for what he’s done.

He didn’t get a single charge that stuck to him. Not a damn thing. Samantha protected him and pled guilty when it came down on her. So did James, accepting the weaker charges that were merely slaps on the wrists. I slipped under the radar, although I’m certain Mason had something to do with that.

Andrew got off completely. Until now.

“Yeah, this is his address,” Mason answers as he unbuckles his seat belt. The click is loud in the still night air.

I watch the light at the end of the street turn green, but there’s not a single car down the road where Andrew’s house is. Not a person in sight, in fact.

It’s only him and us.

I guess he liked being out here for his privacy, away from the city in a Podunk area … maybe it’s where he cooks up the drugs. Or maybe he’s lying low since it all went down only days ago.

I don’t know, and I don’t give a fuck. All I want is for every person responsible to pay the price.

As I step out of the car, the chill of the evening creeping into my bones, I tell Mason, “You better never tell Kat.”

He grins at me and says, “It’s our secret.”

The doors to the car close softly, although they cause a gentle thud to resonate in the bitter cold. I keep my gaze on the warm yellow light coming from the upstairs of the two-story house.

“Sticking to the plan?”

I nod at Mason’s question, not stopping my pace, and not taking my eyes off the light upstairs. Duct tape and rope are in the trunk.

I crack my knuckles one by one, all the pent-up anger and fear from the past couple of weeks raging through my blood, begging for revenge.

I came so close to losing everything because of this fucker. My wife would have been a pregnant widow. And it’s because of this asshole.

“Yeah, stick to the plan,” I answer Mason.

He grins at me. “I’ll get the front, you get the back.”

Just as we break, the man of the hour walks right out the front door, hoodie on and straight out onto the sidewalk, only feet from the car.

“I don’t do meets here, get the fuck out,” he informs us with a threatening tone that only heats the rage coursing in my blood.

“Not here?” Mason questions as if we’re here to buy or sell or whatever the hell Andrew thinks we’re here for.

“Yeah, like I said, I don’t do meets here,” Andrew repeats and then opens his coat, flashing a gun tucked in his waistband. “So get the fuck out.”

Dumb prick should have had the gun in his hand.

The rage turns my vision red.

Before I know what I’m doing, I go for the first punch, slamming my fist right in his jaw. It’s reckless, but it’s a damn good release of all the tension I’ve been carrying. My blood rushes in my ear as he and Mason both fumble for the gun. Mason grabs it from him as a bullet goes