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She pauses, but she doesn’t look at me. Her gaze goes to the man leading her to the car. He speaks to her, but the words drift to me. “Mr. Hughes felt it was safer to stay out of the way. We’re professionals.”
Air puffs out from between her lips. “Safer. Of course.” He urges her into the car, but she stops and looks at me. “Why?”
She might not understand, but I have to try. She has to hear the sincerity in my voice. “I didn’t stalk you and I wasn’t going to hurt you—”
“He’s been paid four million to kill you, Ms. Hughes. I can show you the transaction.”
Her shoulders droop. My world goes dim. I’ve lost her.
I tense to take a step, to tell her that Roman’s orchestrated this, but the man behind me speaks loudly enough for only me to hear. “Do you want her to see you hurt?”
The message is clear. If I keep trying to speak, he’s going to put me down like a rabid animal. Penelope will witness everything. I could fight him, but I don’t think Penelope’s safety is their priority. She could be hurt. If I stay quiet, I’ll have more time to figure out how to get out of the mess I made.
“Why?” she whispers.
The gun prods into my back. He knows enough to keep it out of Penelope’s sight. The man doesn’t want me to answer, but I do anyway. “You’re going to have to decide who you trust.” The thought is rich coming from me. Not long ago, I thought she trusted too easily. Now I need her to.
The guy next to her tries to urge her into the car, but she shakes him off. “I don’t trust either of you, but Roman didn’t ask for money to kill me.”
She gets into the passenger seat. The guy gets behind the wheel. The man behind me makes no attempt to move. I watch as the car is maneuvered and they drive around us, going half off the road to get by. Penelope doesn’t look at me.
I underestimated the enemy. I didn’t think he would spare enough time or money for quality help. I thought he’d hire me as the easy way out. He’s up to more than I expected. Penelope’s in more danger than ever. And I’m not sure I’ll survive the next ten minutes in order to help her.
* * *
Penelope
God,I’m stupid. All the details run through my head. Cannon’s chilly demeanor even after we slept together. His lack of details about his life. Do I have a thing for cold, emotionless men who don’t care about me?
Roman couldn’t be bothered to come after me. I don’t feel like I’m being saved. An ominous cloud hangs over me.
What would’ve happened to me if I continued with Cannon? Jacobi would know if he was the kind of guy who’d kill someone for money. Is that what he did as a contractor? I got the impression it was bodyguard work, not mercenary work.
South. And east. That was all he told me about where we were going. Were authorities going to find my body south, and east, while he continued to the border? Four million dollars would get him a long way in almost every country, but how handy that Mexico is so close.
Didn’t he settle for eight million? What was the deal? Half before and half when the deed was done?
Would he have done it?
Would he pick me over eight million dollars?
I’m a fool.
I haven’t earned that much money in my life, and he would’ve gotten it for one day of work.
I guess I am worth something to a man.
A nervous chuckle leaves me, and my self-proclaimed rescuer gives me a stern side-eye. I feel like I should be in the back seat, like I’m a product to transport.
“What’s going to happen to Cannon?” Why do I care?
But the things running through my mind aren’t fear and anger. I’m remembering how Cannon held me. How he slept with me every night because I was too scared to go to sleep on my own. How he’s friends with Kase and Jacobi and London, and they’re all good people whose lives were a little messy at times.
If Cannon’s a bad guy, why is it so hard to believe?
“He’s going to be dealt with.” He tries to keep his tone light but serious. It doesn’t work.
“What does that mean?
