Page 18 of The Triangle

But not us.

I want to think about that for a long time. Get lost in it. But the little stainless-steel box inside the safe steals all the thoughts in my head.

The brushed-metal box with a triangle etched on the top. The brushed-metal box that, when opened, reveals one seven-carat loose diamond sitting on a plush cushion of black velvet.

“Holy shit, he still has it.” I don’t know how, or why, I breathe out those words because the memory of what happened that night I took the gun inside that house has no ending.

But they come out anyway.

And a moment later it all comes back.

This diamond is the very first one I ever paid for in blood.

CHAPTER SEVEN - DANNY

The fight isn’t pretty. It’s not some good-natured rumble between friends or a small hitch in a plan between partners. I have Brasil pinned up against the wall behind his desk, gun pressed into his throat so hard, he’s gasping for breath.

His gun, not mine. Took it right out of the fucking holster he wears under his arm.

Jack, his top security man, has another gun pressed against the back of my head, but I’m growling as I stare into Brasil’s bloodshot eyes, “Underestimate me, Brasil. Do it.”

“Back off,” Brasil chokes out to Jack. “Back. The fuck. Off.”

Jack pulls his gun away and I feel the space he creates between us as he does as he’s told.

I don’t take my eyes off my partner. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Your turn to back off,” Brasil gasps. “Now, Danny. You won’t get out of here if you don’t.”

Yesterday I wouldn’t really care if I walked away from this. Finding out your business partner of almost five years has been trafficking humans behind your back and now you’re responsible for a debt you never signed on the dotted line for is enough to make a guy snap.

And, oh, man, do I ever feel like snapping right now.

But Christine, that little voice in my head says. Christine is back. She’s taking a bath in your apartment right now. If you die here she’ll die there. Sure as fucking shit. They’ll go there, find her, and then all those things I said would happen to her will happen. Torture, rape, death…

Only I’ll be the one responsible, not Alec.

And that kind of weight isn’t something I can die with. I won’t take that burden down to hell with me.

So I grit my teeth, tilt my head, and say, “You know what I find really disturbing, Brasil? The fact that my business partner has not only been lying to me, but doing it with such conviction I didn’t even suspect him capable of such betrayal.”

And then I spit in his face.

He blinks, but that’s it. Just takes it. And Brasil Lynch might be a lot of things, but he’s not a man who cowers from a well-deserved insult.

I press the gun into his throat even harder, but only so I can grab a moment to look over my shoulder at Jack. I’m still his target, but he’s good at his job and has followed orders. So I back off, step away, Brasil’s own gun still pointed at his face, and say, “I’m out. Whatever the fuck you’ve gotten us into, you’re gonna remove me from it and I’m gonna walk away now.”

Brasil laughs, a good-natured chuckle that even comes with a smile. “Brother—”

I pull the trigger. The bullet smashes through the wall of his apartment, mere inches to the left of his skull, and shards of concrete go flying.

“Do not,” I say, feeling the temperature in the room rise up to boiling, “call me your brother.”

Brasil brings his hands up to chest level, palms out. A small calm-down-dude-it’s-all-good-here gesture meant for both me and Jack, because Brasil’s looking at his muscle when he does it, not me.

“We are not brothers, got it? We’re over. I never signed up for this bullshit.”

“May be the case,” Brasil says. “But you’re in it anyway. What? You think I can just call up the Russians and say, ‘Little problem. We lost your people in the last shipment and oh, by the way, my business partner is out so let me take all the responsibility for this?’ Do you really think they give a shit which one of us costs them money?” He laughs. “You are out.” He’s not laughing now. “Fuck you, Fortnight. No one ever gets to pull a gun on me in my own fucking place. Least of all you, motherfucker. We’re done here. But you will help me find out who did this. And you will take them down. Maybe get that girl to help you, huh? We know she’s alive. We know you probably have her. So now who’s the liar? Now who’s the cheat? Now who’s—”