"He's looking for Cassidy," Lena said, her voice much calmer than she felt. "He said he knows Cassidy called metoday. He wanted me to tell him where she is. I told him I don't know."
Nash's cold glare looked . . . dangerous. "Why are you looking for Cassidy?"
The man smirked. He looked smart enough not to fight Nash, but he didn't look afraid. "You've gotta be the WhiteRock guy," he said.
Nash didn't answer.
The man leaned his head back, resting against the wall. "I know Hightower hired you." He huffed. "Some people think you aren't working fast enough. Maybe you're looking in the wrong direction." His eyes flitted to Lena and back to Nash. "Or maybe you're distracted."
Nash's jaw tightened. "Ruben hired you," he said.
The man attempted an awkward golf clap with his wrists still zip-tied. "Give the man a star."
Nash stretched his hand toward Lena without taking his eyes off his captive. "Could I have my phone back?"
She placed the phone in his hand. He glanced at it a couple of times, tapped in something, and held the phone to his ear. "I need you to come pick this guy up from Emil's house. Pull up to the front door and I'll bring him out to you. Keep an eye out for the guards, Frank and Manny.This guy got in though, so I doubt they're on their toes." He ended the call and narrowed his eyes at the man. "Did you do something to Frank and Manny?"
The man rolled his eyes with a tired half-smile. "Nope. Didn't need to bother. One was asleep. The other was watching a movie on his phone. Real top-notch security Van Horn's got."
"Yeah, they're fabulous. Doesn't matter. It's me you need to worry about."
Nash hadn't raised his voice. He'd barely moved a muscle after securing the man's wrists. But the emotion charging under his stoic mask permeated every inch of space between him and the man. His self-control seemed to be holding by a thread. If the man caused that thread to pop . . . Lena wasn't sure he'd survive the repercussions.
She hugged Nutmeg to her chest. His heartbeat still raced along with her own quickened pulse. She didn't bother telling him to take slow, deep breaths. Did that even work for dogs?
She forced herself to take in a few slow breaths while she stroked his fur.
Nash's face was granite. A throbbing vein in his neck was the only indication of what roiled beneath his dispassionateexpression. "Lena, take Nutmeg into the kitchen. I'll walk this guy out front and be back in a minute."
His ultra-calm voice was a little eerie, but the confidence punctuating every syllable buoyed her own confidence.
Nash knows what he's doing. It will be fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine.
"And take his gun with you," he added.
She almost asked why. But then she figured Nash didn't want the guy's gun anywhere near him when he walked out of the room. Probably a good idea.
"Um, okay." She shifted Nutmeg into the crook of her left arm, picked up the gun, checked that the safety was on, then escaped to the kitchen.
Dear God, protect Nash. Please keep him safe. I . . . um, just please keep him safe.
After Lena left, Nash directed the man down the hall to the foyer. He kept his weapon trained on him while they waited.
"Sit tight. Your ride's going to be here in a few minutes."
"What then, Bigshot?" the man asked, wiping more blood off his face with the back of his hand.
"Not going to kill you," Nash said. "You're welcome. We're not even going to hurt you. Unless you do something stupid. We're just going to make the rest of your stay on Isadora inconvenient, to ensure you stay away from Lena and Cassidy. Your boss wants the jewels found. He doesn't need to worry. It's being handled."
The man made a disgusted noise in his throat.
"And one more thing." Nash lowered his voice, but didn't filter the threat in his tone. "If you touch Lena again, I will hurt you."
His phone vibrated in his pocket. "Your ride's here. Time to go." He motioned for the man to open the front door.
"You broke my nose," the man said.
"I'm aware. You're lucky that's all I broke." He waved the gun toward the door. "Move."
