“If you can tell me what my favorite ice cream is.”
He paused, the gun at his temple frozen.
“What? You were gonna be my husband. I told you a hundred times.”
Graham’s brows caved, and he opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish. I felt something foreign.Power.So many times Graham had fucked with me. I bet he assumed it would be like all the other times. I would just give in and give him what he wanted.
“You should easily be able to answer this?—”
Graham backhanded me with the gun.
I gasped, but no air came through. That fuckinghurt.I swallowed, trying to clear away the white and black spots dancing in my vision.
“Your fucking brattiness wasn’t cute when we were together,” he said. “It’s less cute when it’s causing major operational damage.”
I laughed through the ringing pain, spitting blood to the floor. “If you wanted to keep using me, you shouldn’t have been such a shitty fiancé.”
He bruised the gun against my gut. “I’m done playing, Shay. Tell me your log-in or I will splatter your guts all across the fucking floor and figure it out myself.”
Fuck.I’d reached the end of any stalling I could accomplish, and still had no plan.
I turned around and quickly signed in. Graham shoved me aside the moment my desktop wallpaper appeared. He set the gun down on the desk, typing furiously.
I eyed it.
Graham didn’t expect me to stand up to him. In the years we were together, I never did. I always caved. I always gave him what he wanted. He assumed I wouldn’t now.
Graham always underestimated me.
Hell, he hadn’t even bothered tying my hands together.
Before I could second-guess myself, I reached for the gun. Graham grappled for it too late, hand slamming against the empty desk.
I pointed it at his temple?—
“Shay!”
Calder?My heart leaped at the deep, resonant voice—just as Graham lunged for me, using my distraction to his advantage.
“This guy?” Graham laughed, wrestling with the gun. “This is your new boyfriend? You really have a type, darling. Your knightin shining armor cleans money for the Mafia. He’s just as bad as me.”
I vaguely heard Calder in the background, but adrenaline had focused me on one thing: my asshole ex.
“Why do I have a feeling”—I yanked at the gun, the effort leaving me breathless—“that the way he works for you”—another yank—“is closer to how I apparently work for you?”
Graham’s smile dropped, tearing at the gun with all his force. “I’m going to fucking kill you?—”
Bang.
Any noise—a humming computer, cars rushing outside,Calder—came to a sudden, crashing halt. Someone had once said a gunshot sounded like a car backfiring. Up close and personal, it sounded nothing like that. It was felt more than heard.
My ears rang.
Graham’s eyes widened, matching mine.
Then he dropped to the ground.
A few seconds of silence followed. I felt Calder’s presence at my back but didn’t register it. I stared at the gun in my hand.
