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“Hello, Simon. Glad to see you made it.”
The other man’s smirk made Simon want to beat Jerry’s head into the cement. “Where is my wife?”
Jerry lifted his chin. “She’ll be here shortly.” He opened his arms. “Don’t you trust me?”
Simon ignored the question. People had underestimated him all his life. He wouldn’t say a fucking thing beyond what was necessary. “That wasn’t the deal. Money for Margo—period.”
“And she’ll be here momentarily.”
Simon’s hands fisted at his sides, the seams of the bag digging into his right palm. “Is this the part where you give me your reasons behind all this? I have to tell you, Jerry, I’m not interested.”
“You Kagans, such base creatures. Eat, sleep, fuck. Never any interest in how things work.” He tapped his temple with a sigh. “It’s disappointing.”
Simon sucked back a snarl. “I’d say you’re the base creature here.” Simon tossed the bag of money in front of him. “I don’t want to play. I want my wife back.”
Jerry’s gaze darted to the bag, then back to Simon. “That’s not going to be possible.”
Simon’s throat constricted. “There are no cops here, no one but us.” His voice sounded hollow and distant as his vision narrowed to a pinprick. “You don’t need to do this. I know this was all a mistake—let’s just end this now.”
“Mistake? No, this was the plan all along. Ian never comprehended the bigger picture. I knew his whore of a mother would never be worth the money. I always needed the bigger fish. This was always the endgame.”
Jerry waved Dolph ahead. He reached inside his jacket and smoothly pulled out a very large black gun. It wasn’t showy. No gleam of metal, just matte black and dangerously real.
The car door opened again, but Simon didn’t look away from Jerry. He didn’t need to know if the bullet was coming for his brain, or for his gut.
He couldn’t bear to see if it was Margo coming toward him—or if it wasn’t.
“Where’s Margo?”
“She’s gone. Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt her. Well, I mean, she’s dead. But it was quick. I don’t hurt women.”
“No.” The early sun dimmed and everything seemed to tilt. Simon didn’t even realize he’d slammed onto his knees until the pain radiated up through his legs and spine.
A shadow loomed over him, but he couldn?
??t bring himself to look up. His eyes were as dry as the dusty wind whipping up between them. He sagged forward, gravel digging into his knuckles.
Not Margo.
Their lemon drop.
Both gone.
His head tilted back and the wail that came out of him startled Jerry back a step.
“Jesus, shut him up.”
Dolph came forward, his gun raised.
Simon closed his eyes and prayed that there was something more after this life. That at least he’d get his girls in some fashion.
He jerked at the shot, but there was no pain.
Was that it?
Was he so very numb without her that he wouldn’t even feel his own death?
Fitting.
