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She won’t. She trusts me, not him. But I have a gun at my head and a car that probably won’t run. The man said he is here to help her. This is some of Roman’s fuckery. Whatever he has planned for Penelope, it’s not going to happen today. They would’ve hurt her by now, not try to lure her away from me. “Do what he says, Penelope.”
She can’t hide the tremble in her body when she gets out. The man’s weapon is visible, strapped against his chest. It’s not in his hand, but it’s enough to scare her.
The second man removes the gun from my head and steps back. “You too, bodyguard.” He sneers the last word. “Pop the trunk.”
I get out. He glares at me. Having the trunk open doesn’t bode well for me. If he wants to open it, he can damn well do it himself.
The flat line of his lips tells me he knows I don’t plan to make it easy on him. “Put your hands on your head,” he snarls.
I move my hands slowly to do as he says. He pats me down and retrieves my gun. He drops the mag out and pockets it, tucking my gun in his waistband. Efficient. Professional.
Seething regret and anxiety nearly lock up my muscles. I messed up. I dropped my guard when I should’ve been the most alert.
The other man wraps his hand around Penelope’s arm. She tries to shake it off, but he drags her to the black car.
“Don’t touch me.” Desperation laces her tone. “I’m not getting in.”
“You’re not safe with him, Ms. Hughes.”
“Bullshit,” she says, and the man’s gaze sharpens. My hands are still behind my head, but it’s like the guy behind me wants me to hear what’s said to Penelope.
“Ms. Hughes,” the man says, his tone bored, “this man was paid to kill you.”
Ice washes through my veins. What the hell is Roman playing at? Why would he do what he did and then try to tell her I’m the one trying to hurt her? They’re attempting to separate us. I wasn’t herded to the guys’ car. Is he going to frame me?
A line pinches between Penelope’s brows. “What are you talking about?”
The man slides his steely gaze to me, then back to her. “I’m reaching for my phone.” He pulls it out and taps on the screen. He turns it toward her. “That’s footage of this man outside your studio. Do you recognize what day it is?”
She hugs herself, confusion and that damn vulnerability in her gaze. “That’s the day I found a murdered rabbit in my studio.”
“Mr. Hughes has been worried about you for some time. He’s been watching this man.”
Her brows pinch tighter. “I don’t believe you.”
The man taps on the screen again. My voice filters out.
“Ten million.”The beginning of my negotiation with Roman.
That devious son of a bitch. Did he plan this? How long was he watching me watch his wife?
It gets worse as we all hear me say, “Look, man. She’s quit the studio. She’s parked her pretty little ass in her mother’s house. Getting to her is going to be a problem for anyone, but even harder for me to make it look like I’m not involved.”
Then, “A burner phone and a voice app aren’t going to fool me, fucker. I’ve been doing this longer than you, and I’m better. Let me know when you’re ready to get what you pay for.”
Pieced together, it’s a damning conversation. Without my thoughts and what I know, I look and sound guilty as hell. Anger burns hot as I imagine slowly peeling Roman’s skin from his smug body.
Penelope meets my gaze. I will her not to believe what she’s hearing, but she’s looking at me like she’s never seen me before.
“Don’t believe it, Penelope.”
“Were you stalking me?” Her voice is raspy. She’s hugging herself harder.
I shake my head. “Your husband—”
“Ms. Hughes, please let me get you to safety.” The man gently grips her elbow. She lets him lead her to the car. He opens the door.
They’ll make sure I don’t have a chance to explain. I’ll end up with lead in the brain if I try to tell her my side. “Why isn’t he here?”
