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She twisted her hands together. “It’s when he tells me he’s bought something new for me to wear and expects to see me in it. Usually that night.” She twisted her lips to the side. “Apparently, there’s a gown in my room waiting for me to wear tonight.”
Lucas’s hands were back in his hair.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she said, grabbing his upper arm. “It could be worse. I just have to tell him to strip and smack his ass a few times before Ariana makes her entrance.”
Lucas rubbed his entire face with his hand. “And what if this shit escalates? What if they want to take their little tableau to the next level? Then what?”
“They won’t…”
“Oh, like they would never kill Marshall and attempt to kill Angus and Mia?”
She released his arm. And the look of hopelessness covered her face like a veil.
He softened his voice as he cupped her cheek. “These people aren’t screwed tight,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t just stand around waiting for them to…do something worse. To you.”
Birdie moved into his arms. “You don’t have a choice.”
They turned toward the door, hearing voices outside the pool house as Flynn darted toward the window and peeked through the linen curtain. “The maids,” he said as if criminal factions were storming the pool house. “They’re coming to clean.” He turned to Lucas. “You’ll have to go out the back.” He pulled his trusty pink Taser from his pocket. “Follow me.”
