Page 72 of Mad Love

Enzo extends his hand to Myra. “It’s been a pleasure.”

She doesn’t take it. She eyes me instead, watching with a squinted gaze as I gently lift Elijah onto my shoulder.

“Come back up here when you’re done,” she says to me. “We still have work to do and I can’t hold off law enforcement for much longer.”

I nod as Enzo steps onto the elevator. He chuckles to himself, carefully avoiding the pool of blood beneath us.

Myra stares at me, unblinking and cold, until the elevator doors close.

Enzo leads me outside to a black sedan parked behind my trailer. My lips twitch with amusement. This asshole actually came alone, though I suspect he didn’t have much choice considering how many of his men Lilah slaughtered all by herself.

“Here…” Enzo pauses behind his car. “Toss him in the trunk.”

I walk past him and open the backseat instead.

“Hey! I said the trunk. I don’t want to get blood on the upholstery.”

I lower down and slide Elijah off my shoulder to lay him inside.

“Hey, Allen! You stupid or something?”

I spin back around toward Enzo. He stares at me with an annoyed, twisted expression as I roll my hands into white-knuckle fists.

“Give me your phone,” I growl.

“What?”

I jab him hard in the jaw and he falls to the ground like a damn rag doll. While he cries out in pain, I search his pockets for his phone. I quickly find it in his suit jacket and throw it across the parking lot.

“What the—”

I silence him with a hard kick to the gut. His clothing tears in my grasp as I grab him and jerk him off the ground. He struggles but he’s no fighter, coughing and gasping for air through his bruised solar plexus.

I toss him into the trunk and slam it closed. The car rocks up and down as he bounces around inside and shouts for help.

My phone rings in my pocket. I answer without looking.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Her voice is calm yet pointed.

I scan the hotel windows, searching for her spying eyes. “Taking out the trash,” I say.

Myra kisses her teeth. “You’re making a huge mistake, Archer.”

“Noted.”

“You love her, don’t you? I can see it all over your face.”

I inhale a deep breath. “Even if I didn’t, I’d still do this.”

“Why?”

“Because fuck you and your ugly shoes.”

She cackles. “You know, my mother told me I was wrong about you. That my instincts were off, and you weren’t fit for this team.”

“She was right.”

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