God.
How was this man still capable of sounding gentle after threatening murder downstairs five minutes ago?
Because I heard that too.
Maybe. But you’re definitely dying first.
And the terrifying part?
I believed him completely.
Hersh crossed the room slowly.
Carefully.
Like he thought I might bolt.
Honestly?
I almost had.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered suddenly.
His brow furrowed immediately.
“For what?”
“For this.”
I gestured helplessly toward the windows.
The storm.
The danger.
The cartel.
Everything.
“You shouldn’t be involved in any of this.”
Something fierce flashed across his face instantly.
“No.”
“Hersh—”
“No, Flick.”
The sharpness in his voice stopped me cold.
He stepped closer.
“This doesn’t become your fault because bad people make bad choices.”
Emotion climbed painfully into my throat.
“You heard him downstairs.”
