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Oliver frowned.“Why would he lie?The man was about to kill himself.He was confessing all, but he didn’t confess to that.He appeared confused as hell when I brought up the car attack.”
“Fascinating.Look, I’ve got to go.I didn’t see a syringe.”
Fine.“Have youseenLane?Any leads?”
Silence.Then, “Zero leads.”
“Got to give the man credit, he’s sure been able to disappear.”Oliver heard footsteps behind him.“The doctor is coming.I need to find out what she’s got to say about Lark.Colby has some dumbass plan to stakeout the hospital in order to get Lane.Thinks he’ll come running to see Lark if he believes she’s at death’s door.”
“Dumbass,” Memphis breathed.
“I’m taking her home with me.She’ll be far away from any drama that goes down here.”He turned because the doctor had just opened the door fully.“Check in with you in the morning—”
Memphis had already hung up.
Frowning, Oliver fired off a text on his phone.His instincts just wouldn’t stop screaming at him…
***
The knife pressed hard beneath his chin, but Memphis just smiled.“Happy?Did I give the performance of a lifetime or what?Maybe I should get a shiny, gold trophy?”Casual words even as rage blasted through him.
I can’t believe this sonofabitch got the drop on me.Infuriating.And humiliating.
Lane Lawson removed the phone and the knife.He put them both on a nearby table before turning back toward Memphis.“That crack about being tied up was supposed to be funny?”
Memphis strained against the ropes that bound him.A freaking lot of ropes.“My friends always say I’m hilarious.”
“My sister was almost killed tonight.”
“And she was saved by FBI Special Agent Oliver Foxx.Sounds to me like you owe the man a thank you basket.”
Lane’s eyes narrowed.
Memphis’s stare swept over him.“Don’t want to tell you your business but…that wound ripped open again.Your shirt is soaked with blood.”
“It ripped open becauseyoudrove your elbow into it, asshole.”
Memphis smiled.He had.“Was that me?”Fighting dirty was his specialty.And when he got out of these ropes…I am going to mess you up.
Memphis’s phone rang again.Lane looked over at the screen and read the name that had just appeared over the image, “Eliza…”
Memphis stiffened.
“We’ll let her go to voicemail.Again.”Lane left the phone on the table but picked up the knife once more.
Yeah, let it go to voicemail.My wife is about to track my phone and have SWAT swarming.No way would Eliza buy he’d ever ignore three calls from her.The woman was his freaking life.She was—
Lane stalked closer with the knife gripped in his hand.
Memphis lifted his chin.“Gonna slice open my throat now?Even after I played it so cool for you on the phone call?That’s the thanks I’m gonna get?”
The light glinted off the knife.They were in a vacant club, one about five blocks from Side Strip.After digging through some serious corporate red tape, Memphis had found four pieces of property linked to Lane’s old company.Places being maintained thanks to a ton of corporate BS.Maintained, but not used.Memphis had been searching each one when he hit paydirt.
Or rather, when paydirt had hit him.The bastard fights as dirty as I do.
“Relax, Memphis, you’re hardly my type.”
Memphis’s phone rang again.Eliza’s ringtone.
