Page 40 of Queen of Spades

Or maybe I never took the time to get to know the real her.

I’ve been accused of being a judgy bastard on more than a handful of occasions.

I’ve just never been so blatantly wrong about anyone.

Not before, nor since.

I sigh, stretching back in the seat of the uncomfortable rental SUV.

Grady Wells has done well for himself, if that house is any indication.

Hell, it might have belonged to the previous Grady.

Jesus Christ, I’m anxious.

My instincts are paranoid and on full alert. I’m not sure what is setting off my trouble is headed your way radar, but I don’t think I’ll settle down until I’m able to snatch Sparrow up and take her home.

Once she’s back on the East Coast, I might be able to breathe again.

I’ll just have a very pouty little omega to contend with. My cock jolts in my jeans at the thought. Hell, even I can admit I’m fucked up.

My phone rings, and Merrick’s name pops up. I’m instantly even more paranoid than before. The tech guy for Assurance Security never calls me with good news.

I answer the call. “Yo.”

“Grab her and the merc and get the fuck out now,” Merrick growls in my ear. My hand falls to the glove box as I stretch to grab extra magazines. “Two SUVs. Three, maybe four, minutes out. There are no traffic lights I can catch them at. It’s a hit squad.”

“From Andretti?” My head shakes.

That was a dumb question.

There’s no other possibility.

“At least nine, maybe ten or eleven guys, based on the traffic camera stills I caught them on.” Merrick clicks away in the background as I toss the door open and jog for the front door. “Ranger wants his sister and the merc brought in safely. Clean that up, and I’ll be in touch.”

I grunt, hanging up and shoving my phone into my pocket.

I hit the front door without trying to be quiet about it.

Raiden Michaels—Grady—whatever the fuck he’s going by now, has Sparrow wrapped up in his arms as I come around the corner into his living room. He yanks her behind him, pulling his Glock and aiming at my head.

“Michaels, long time no see,” I growl.

The last time I saw that motherfucker before getting to Vegas was when Ranger had us both strung up in his basement. We made a pact that whichever of us should get out first would come back for the other.

Only, Ranger let him out a week before he released me.

Michaels disappeared rather than coming back to let me out.

Supposedly, he assured Ranger that he wouldn’t complete the kill contract on Sparrow from Lucien Andretti, and if he found her, he would immediately surrender her to her brother.

Only, he quite convincingly faked his own demise, so he didn’t have to do either.

I shake away that anger and lay out the details. “Kill squad. Less than three minutes out. Somewhere in the neighborhood of ten men.”

“How the fuck?” he hisses. “That motherfucker. I knew there was more to him. No one loses a hand and keeps their mouth shut, not unless they’re highly fucking trained. Also, I go by Grady now.” He stomps over to a door a few feet away and aims before pulling the trigger twice. The silenced thump of the bullets landing fills the air.

“Hello, Sparrow,” I say to the wide-eyed little omega.

---