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“It doesn’t pay.” I keep the smugness out of my voice. He found exactly what he was supposed to.
“And you think I do?”
“I might charge more than those street fighters you got, but I’m worth it.”
“I don’t trust you, Lannister.”
“You don’t have to. You just have to hire me. You know how to reach me when you want to quit fucking around.”
I hang up and stare at the parking lot. I doubt Roman’s going to call back right away. He’s not going to give up control easily. All I need is a money trail. Jacobi will help follow that trail all the way to the dirty deeds Roman’s involved in. And maybe that’ll tell me why the hell Roman wants Penelope’s blood.
* * *
Penelope
I’mready to collapse in a heap when Cannon pulls up in front of the house. Are my nightmares going to be filled with pickups and men wearing black masks?
I chew the inside of my lip and stare out the window at my mother’s place. “Why were there two men?” I should’ve thought of this question earlier. “If I have a stalker, why were there two attackers?”
“I dunno.” He frowns as he thinks of an answer. Has he been wondering too? “Maybe the stalker has a buddy he talked into scaring you.”
I switch my gaze to Cannon. His bright-red shirt and wrinkled shorts don’t look so haphazard after I watched him scare off two men, at least one of them armed, with nothing but his instincts and training. Those guys never thought a touristy-looking guy like Cannon could fight them off.
“Do you really think they were just trying to scare me?” Using vehicles and knives has too great of a risk to do more than strike fear in my heart. The fear was there from the beginning. I’m terrified.
His look is steady. He guards his thoughts. Has he always been this way?
When he regards me like this, with his direct stare and his shuttered expression, the déjà vu tugs harder on my brain. Who is Cannon Lannister? There’s no one I can ask. Jacobi won’t tell me. Bro code—or something like that—and I doubt London knows more than me.
“I don’t know,” he says. “The police will find out.”
“The police have more important things. They made that clear.” The officers were professional enough, but my reports will be added to the heap of shootings and stabbings and robberies they’re investigating.
“Give them time. When do you meet with your lawyer next?”
“Next week. She’s not confident about mediation.” I snort. “And she doesn’t even know Roman. She’s just dealt with enough men like him.”
“The type that refuses to look like he’s been duped.”
“That’s him. He’ll divorce me, but he won’t divorce his pride.” I lift a shoulder. “He didn’t seem to want to be married to me. We have a prenup. I don’t have much leverage, but I don’t want it. I just want to be done with him.” I envision the relief. The weightlessness I’ll feel when I’m completely single keeps me going.
“Powerful men aren’t left by wives who weren’t supposed to think for themselves.”
Melancholy pours into me like I’m an empty cup. “I wish I’d thought for myself earlier.”
“Regrets do no good.”
His matter-of-fact tone helps. Two weeks ago, I didn’t think I’d be talking to Cannon about my divorce or my ex, but it’s natural. He’s an understanding man and that’s not something I’m used to.
His gaze goes to the rearview mirror. He doesn’t kill the engine or put the car into gear, but he’s ready. I’m afraid to look, but I do. A black Mercedes pulls up behind us. My adrenaline wants to spike, but the car isn’t flashy enough for Roman.
Mother has a gate. Whoever drove in has the code or was let in.
A tall, slender man in a Tom Ford suit gets out, and for a moment I’m the little girl waiting for her daddy to return home so she can tell him about her day. The girl that forgets he doesn’t like the time she spends dancing and that his tone is always disapproving.
“That’s my father.” I reach for the door, but Cannon puts a hand on my arm.
“Is he alone?”
