Page 8 of Lock


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“How did you end up with this?” he asked as he lifted a wad of cash. “I want the whole story and the truth.”

“Uh, yes, yes, of course. I have no reason to lie to you.” She inhaled and then immediately blew out a shaky breath. “Okay, um, Oliver is… was… was my fiancé. We broke up about two weeks ago. It kinda sucked because it was a week after my thirtieth birthday. He finally got the last of his stuff out of my house while I was at work today. I’m an interior designer, and today was crazy as hell. I had to deal with this high-maintenance wealthy woman who changed her mind five hundred times and couldn’t make a decision if the fate of her new Birkin bag depended on it.”

Thankfully, her attention stayed locked on Spec because Lock couldn’t keep his lips from quirking. His enforcer’s death stare brought out strong reactions from most of its recipients, but rambling about rich people was a new one. What the hell was a Birkin bag?

“There a point to all this?” Spec asked.

“Uh, sorry,” she said before clearing her throat. She shook out her hands as though expelling nerves through her fingertips. “I found that envelope in a drawer when I got home from work. I didn’t open it,” she rushed to say as she shook her head. “I wouldn’t invade someone’s privacy like that, even that asshole, Oliver. But I did call him to tell him he left it. He’s out of town—‍”

“Of course, he is,” Jinx said as Spec mumbled, “Of course he fucking is.”

“Um, yeah, he’s away until tomorrow and told me this needed to be delivered here at this time and…” She blinked. “That motherfucker,” she said as the puzzle pieces slid into place. “He sent me here on purpose.” Her voice rose to a near shout. “He fucking knew he was short and sent me to deliver the money because he’s a chickenshit.”

Lock let her go.

She rubbed the spot where he’d held her arm even though he hadn’t used a punishing grip. Her gaze shifted to his face for the first time since he’d grabbed her. Their eyes met and, for one second, seemed to hold. His gut clenched, and his balls tightened as electricity hummed through his veins.

What the fuck?

The woman’s mesmerizing eyes flared, and she jerked her gaze back toward Spec.

Weird.

“Enough bullshit.” Spec stomped toward her. Lock had the most insane instinct to put himself between his enforcer and a woman whose name he didn’t know, but he held his ground.

Spec would skin him alive if he fucked up this deal after fucking up so many times over the past year.

“You know what I do to people who show up fifteen thousand short?” Spec yelled as he got up in the woman’s face.

Her skin lost all color as she tipped her head back to see him fully.

Lock clenched and unclenched his fists.

Spec won’t hurt her. He won’t hurt her.

Getting between them wasn’t necessary.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“Brother…” Jinx took a step closer.

Thank God.

“Y-y-you’d hurt them,” she whispered.

“I’d fucking hurt him.” He stopped screaming. “But he sent you, so I can’t do that. So tell me, what the fuck am I supposed to do with you?”

She blinked. “You, uh, you’re not gonna hurt me?”

Spec sighed. “No. I’m not gonna fucking hurt you.”

Her knees buckled.

“Shit.” Lock lurched forward to catch her before she hit the ground.

She does not feel good in your arms.

“S-sorry. Thank you. I just… I’m okay now.”

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