Page 77 of Spock’s Snare

“You can’t pin that on me just because I don’t think a bitch should be running a construction company.”

Rush shifts, but he keeps himself between Monroe and me. Smart. The urge to punch that smug look off Monroe’s face burns through my veins. But I force myself to stay put.

“What about Steven Blackwood?” I ask.

Monroe freezes, and I see it. There’s recognition there.

“What about him?”

“You tell us,” I say. “He used to work for you.”

“So did a lot of men.”

“He lied to Chloe about it.”

“That ain’t my problem.”

“Is that why you sent him to her?” I step around Rush. “So he could get inside her company? So he could sabotage her work and make her look incompetent?”

“I didn’t send anybody.” Monroe pushes away from the desk. “And I’m done with this conversation.”

Dice shifts toward the door, cutting off the exit.

Monroe stops.

“You’re not done until we say you’re done,” Dice tells him.

“You can’t come into my office and threaten me.” Monroe reaches into his pocket, but Dice grabs his wrist before he can pull out whatever is inside. “Get your fucking hands off me.”

Dice twists his arm behind his back and shoves him against the edge of the desk. Papers slide to the floor, scattering around Monroe’s boots.

“Phone,” Dice says after checking the pocket. He tosses the cell onto the desk. “Relax.”

Monroe jerks free the moment Dice releases him. Instead of backing down, he lowers his shoulder and charges for the door.

He doesn’t make it.

Dice pivots and drives a hard punch into the side of Monroe’s jaw. Monroe’s head snaps sideways. His knees buckle, and he collapses onto the grimy floor with a thud that rattles the metal office.

Dice looks down at the unconscious man. “That was stupid.”

“For him or you?” I ask.

“Him.” Dice flexes his hand. “Definitely him.”

I step closer, staring at Monroe. Part of me wishes I’d been the one to hit him, but knocking the bastard out won’t give us the answers we need.

Dice pulls out his phone.

“You calling Hunter?” I ask.

“Yeah. He and Smooth can bring the van and take him to The Pit.”

Dice nods as he lifts the phone to his ear. “We need somewhere private to finish this conversation.”

My gaze settles on Monroe’s slack face as I consider the man. He knows something. His reaction to our mention of Blackwood proves it.

Whatever secret he’s protecting, he’ll tell us soon enough. Because once Elvis Monroe wakes up in The Pit, there won’t be any doors for him to run through—and no one will hear him when we start asking questions again.