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I yank Jillian that way. My heart skips a beat, seeing the same hidden handle Da had in our library.
I press it, and the bookshelf opens. Fuck yes! “Get in,” I say to Jillian.
“Not without you,” she mutters, clutching me.
“Oh, I’m coming. I’m one man. I don’t have a death wish. I have a woman to marry and a baby to raise.”
“I’m not pregnant. I—”
“Shush, sparkles.” I shut her up with my mouth.
With her hand in mine, I approach Scava’s body.
“Is your gun registered?”
“Yes,” she says, sounding regretful. “But it was self-defense. He mentioned cameras. Everyone will know.”
“You say that as if you’d make it to trial.” Shaking my head, there’s only one thing I can do to level the outcome.
I unload my clip into every corner of Scava’s body. “If you go down, I go down with you.” I throw my gun next to Lazaro on the floor.
A gun covered in my fingerprints.
The banging on the office door begins again, and I pull Jillian through the secret exit, cursing in relief at the panel on the other side. I hit a button to close it and seeing a little padlock icon, I hit that, and it bolts the door.
In a dim tunnel, lights flick at each baseboard as we pass. I worry where it leads, when a sharp turn produces a metal exit door.
“Thank fuck.”
I don’t know who’s on the other side, but I know who will be flying down this hallway any minute.
“Ready, sparkles?”
“I wasn’t ready for you.” She smiles, dark tracks of tears sliding down her cheeks. “But I’m ready now. I love you, too.”
“Good girl,” I kiss her mouth and shove the door.
It whooshes open and the bright, sharp December sun, blinds me.
I can’t see.
But I hear voices…
“Stop! Police!”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
Jillian
Cops.
So many are in bed with the Borgias.
“No!” I scream and reach into my purse for my prosecutor ID.
“Hands in the air!” A man with an Irish accent yells, coming at us with a Glock.
“Fuck, Taryn,” Eoghan mutters and then turns to me. “It’s okay, sparkles. He’s with me.”
