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I am cuffed to Avery, and we’re seated much as before on her sofa, the new one she got to replace the old one with the smoke damage incurred thanks to a bomb, courtesy of her run-in last spring with some man named Blaisdell.
This must be a nightmare for her. Can’t say I’m enjoying it much either. Two near-death experiences in two weeks? Likely not a record, but surely this qualifies me for some sort of top-ten list.
Wrapping my pinkie finger around hers, I squeeze tight. I want her to know we’re going to be alright. I genuinely do believe that. Weirdly, I feel like I’m the cheerleader of the group. Must be Marco’s example.Oh, Marco.How I wish he were here now. That he’d miraculously know I was in trouble and crash through the door like an action movie hero, guns blazing.
“Soooo, what is all this about anyway?” I ask with fake bravado.
The black weapon in his hand is about twice the size of my little gun, and I do not doubt for a second that he is more proficient with it than his sidekick.
His eyes sweep over me, linger, and boy do I wish I were still wearing Marco’s shirt. But his attention shifts to Avery. “When your boyfriend gets here, you’ll both find out.”
I lift my chin high and butt in. Avery won’t mind. “You might as well tell us now, because when my brother gets here, you’re not going to have time to talk.”
Avery gawks at me, nudging my thigh.Hush,she taps out, quite eloquently, with her hand. And…she may have a point.
Menacing fire gleams from the creep’s pupils. “Brother, you say?”
Yep, Avery is the smart one in the bunch.
He throws his head back, cackling, a total bad guy cliché. “This is too perfect! Blaze ain’t going to believe it when I tell him. We get three in one and the sister as a bonus.”
A giant gasp surges from Avery’s lips, her palms flying to her face. I get her fear, but…the name registers.Blaze.Wasn’t that the street name of the bad dude who ordered Tripp to kill her last spring? Who blew up her garage and half her kitchen?
Blaze.
Blaisdell?
What the heck is going on here?
Revenge. I don’t have to be a trained government agent to figure this one out.
I lean into my almost-sister-in-law, receiving, and hopefully giving, a little strength. More understanding clicks into place. Dell…Blaisdell? Has to be. This guy is related to that guy?
A dark smugness congeals on his face. “Turns out, missing Gonzalez the first time was a gift.”
My breath hitches.Missing Marco?
His eyebrows spear up. “Oh, something else you didn’t know? That poor little all-American college boy he offed worked for me. Gonzalez did my bro and me a favor actually. Anderson was more trouble than he was worth.”
Innocent.I close my eyes and take it in. I pray I get out of here, because when I do, I’m shouting long and loud that Marco is innocent!
When I open my eyes again, I wish I hadn’t. The guy leers at me.
Sliding off the stool, he saunters to within inches. Looms. He slides the barrel of the slick weapon along my collarbone, tracing a line down to the top of my cleavage. His lascivious perusal dries my mouth and finally ties my tongue.
I’d rather be shot than what I fear he’s thinking. This time, Avery’s pinky finger squeezes around mine.
I shoot my eyes to the other man. Bedhead is glued to the exchange as if he’s watching a blockbuster. “We gonna have some fun, dude?”
Yep, drooling again, and there’s no other word to describe the head loser’s expression but diabolical. But he checks his watch, sighs, and steps back. “Check the window, Stone. They should be here by now.”
Bedhead slides off the stool, gun in hand, and peers through the curtain. “Nothing yet, boss.” He’s sounding increasingly sober.
“So, we wait.”
Dellsinks into the wing chair across from us, swinging one leg over the other, lightly resting the humongous gun on his knee. What a scumbag.
They.
