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“And at what point are you killing him?”
He blinks. “I’m not putting you at risk.”
Does that mean he’s not going to kill him? “Brad, he doesn’t play fair.”
“You’ll be wearing a vest.” He dips and kisses me gently, ignoring me. “And remember, stay calm, no matter what.”
65
BRAD
* * *
I stand at the top of the steps by the front door watching Mason, Leon, and Jerry loading the bags of cash into the back of my Mercedes. Getting as prepared as we can with no location or exact time. “Any word from Chaka yet?” I ask no one in particular.
“No word,” James says as he passes, wedging a machine gun into the driver’s footwell in his Range. “Anything else from King?”
“No.” I dip and stub out my smoke in a plant pot, just as Pearl’s cell dings. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks this way. “He wants to meet me at the boatyard,” I say. “Now.” He knows we’ve abandoned it. Cleared it out of all supplies.
“He’ll have a boat waiting,” Danny muses, joining me on the steps. “Clear getaway.”
“And I’ll let him go.”
Danny nods, accepting. Pearl coming changes everything. The fucker has us cornered, and our backup—Chaka—is missing in action. James goes to the trunk of his Range Rover and pulls out a vest, approaching, holding it up and nodding to indicate something behind me. I turn and find Pearl at the bottom of the stairs dressed for a workout—leggings and a tank, a hoodie tied around her waist.
“Is it time?” she asks, taking in the atmosphere.
“It’s time.” I snatch the vest from James and go to her, checking her over. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” she says, immediately taking my forearm when I’m close enough, telling me otherwise. “I needed to stretch my legs.” She looks past me to Danny and James outside. Both are loading handguns.
“It’s a precaution,” I say. “Come.” I lead her to a chair by the window next to the front door and sit her down.
She eyes the vest in my hand as I lower to my knees before her, and remains quiet as I remove her sling before ripping the side straps of the vest open. “We’ll go over your head,” I say, lifting it and lowering it to her shoulders, saving her feeding an arm through. I feel her studying me, I see her heart beating hard. “Tell me what you’re not going to do,” I order as I get her vest into position.
“I’m not going to look at him.”
I nod, pulling one of the side traps round and fastening it. “Or?”
She breathes in from the pressure on her ribs. “Talk to him.”
I take the other strap and fasten it, flicking my gaze up to her, checking the level of her discomfort. “Keep your eyes low.” I gently pull at the vest, checking the fit. It doesn’t cover enough of her body, nowhere near.
She nods, eyes on mine. “It’s lighter than I thought.”
I see her apprehension, her fear, even if she’s trying to hide it with idol chitchat about her armor. “Look at me,” I demand. Her eyes lift. Big, green, expressive eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
She nods, swallowing, and remains still when I lean in and kiss her, not accepting, but not refusing either. I stand from my knees and pull her up, unraveling the hoodie from around her waist. I can’t save her arm with this, so I stretch the material as much as I can. Which isn’t enough. So I cast it aside and pull off my own, taking my baseball cap with it.
“What about you?” she asks as I put it over her head and pull the sleeve hole away from her body. She eases her arm through, holding her breath.
“Worried I’ll catch a chill?”
She wants to smile. Can’t.
