Edward was right. Braddock was right. Damn, even Ricky had been right about her.
Maybe she shouldn’t have given her official tail the slip.
Tyrone walked up to CJ, stood toe-to-toe, stared down as if assessing her under a microscope. “You just keep on.” He shook his head. “Warning after warning. What’s it gonna take to keep you out of my business?”
Maybe it was the fact that he was in her face. Or maybe she’d wanted to do this since her one lucid thought had formed after Shelley’s death.
She slapped him. Slapped him as hard as she could for being the scumbag he was. For luring desperate young women into a life of misery and shame. The rush of adrenaline that fueled the move receded as quickly as it came. She shuddered with the force of its withdrawal ... or maybe from touching this bastard barehanded.
His bodyguards closed in. Tyrone held up a hand to stop them.
“I got a score to settle with you already, Dr. Patterson. So I’m gonna give you that, but you listen to me closely.” He leaned nearer still. “The next time you wake up with blood all over you ... it’ll be yours.”
He turned and walked back to his fancy SUV. One of his goons opened the door. He took one last look at CJ, then climbed in. The goon sent her a look that said he knew something she didn’t, then got into the back seat with his boss. The final two loaded up and the vehicle barreled out of the parking lot.
CJ stood frozen beneath the meager glow of the distant streetlamps. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. If she did, the emotions building inside her would burst free.
Tyrone had killed Celeste.
She didn’t have to wonder anymore.
She knew.
An SUV roared across the parking lot. Adrenaline blasted through her veins. She lunged for her rental. The vehicle skidded to a stop next to her, trapping her between it and the rental.
That was just like Tyrone. To send his other thugs to do his dirty work. Bastard!
She jammed her hand into her pocket after the fob.
The front passenger window of the vehicle powered down.
Hurry!She hit the unlock button. Reached for her door.
“We have to talk.”
CJ whipped around to face the familiar deep voice.
Braddock.
Between the panic and the darkness she hadn’t recognized his SUV.
The margin of relief that trickled through her was instantly replaced by suspicion. Where the hell had he come from?
He would be pissed that she’d lost the surveillance he had assigned to her. Apparently he knew her well enough to pick up her trail.
The charge of fear that had propelled her into escape mode vanished like the final blink of warning before her cell phone’s battery died. Her body trembled. She couldn’t restrain it.
“Don’t just stand there, CJ. Let’s go.”
An argument was on the tip of her tongue. But he could have news.
She’d barely gotten the door closed when he hit the gas. Fumbling for her seat belt, she asked, “Where are we going? Do you have news?”
He didn’t answer immediately. During that lapse of silence they passed a row of streetlights, allowing her to see the tic in his clenched jaw. Definitely angry.
“We’ve had this conversation. Just a few hours ago, in fact.”
“What conversation is that?” The idea that she hadn’t relocked her rental and that her purse was in there vied for her attention.Dammit.
