Page 45 of Queen's Ransom

She opened her mouth to call after them but then an arm circled her waist and a hand covered her mouth. “What do you think you’re doing?” Avery whispered from behind her.

Their height difference gave Avery a few-second advantage, enough to haul Helena behind a parked SUV, but once they were out of sight, Helena bit the inside of her palm, rammed the insole of Avery’s foot, and wrenched herself free. Spinning, she traded three quick jabs with Avery, then finally got her calf hooked behind the taller woman’s and her forearm braced across her chest, shoving Avery against the side of the SUV. “Nice moves, but you have to let me do this.”

“Which is what?”

“Giving them what they want.”

“They’ve got what they want. Dex.”

And Zima was going to make off with him if she didn’t end this standoff quickly. But she had to make sure Avery took the right message back to her family. “Until they call and try to ransom him. Until Celia finds out and has to worry even more about her kids’ deadbeat dad. They don’t really want Dex. They want me. The queen.”

Avery smiled. “And you think you’re not good enough for her.”

Trusting she’d won the argument, and hearing another one escalating between Zima and Lenny, Helena released Avery and dug her phone out of her pocket. “You get the plates on the van?”

Avery, always on the lookout, always acutely aware of their surroundings, rattled off the numbers and letters.

“Good.” Helena handed over her phone. While Holt could track it to find her, so could any number of other parties who might try a third-party rip-off. And no telling what Zima or the Bratva would do with that phone if they got their hands on it. “Rally the troops. Come get me.”

“You could just take him out.”

“Or I could make sure this only goes as high as Zima and make sure no one else makes this kind of play against us.”

“Copy.” Avery made an oof sound and pretended to fall to the ground, the noise interrupting Zima and Lenny’s argument.

Hands raised, Helena stepped around the hood of the SUV. “It’s me you want, isn’t it, Adrian? That’s why you shot up the shop.”

“What’s going on?” Dex said from where he lay sideways in the back of the van.

“Yeah, Adrian, what the hell?” Lenny added. “I thought we were just gonna intimidate Dex again. Like with the drive-by. Convince him to give us the money he owes—”

Zima popped Lenny in the temple with his elbow, a swift hard blow. The dealer folded like a rag doll, right into the back of the truck, unconscious.

“Get in,” Zima said to her.

She pointed at Lenny and Dex. “Let those two go. Bratva’s not gonna care about a drug dealer and a petty criminal.”

“I think I’ll keep them. May ditch the one,” Zima said, a flick of his eyes toward Lenny before he pointed the gun at Dex, who squirmed farther back in the van like a fucking idiot. “He’s my insurance that you cooperate. If you’re willing to trade yourself for him, what else will you do?”

Oh, if he only knew. She’d save that surprise for later when she had all the intel she needed. She climbed into the van, and Zima slammed the doors shut, plunging them into darkness.

Until the fucking idiot among them let her know exactly where he was. “What the hell?” Dex whined. “This is all Celia’s fault. I told her you were bad—”

She punched him square in the mouth, silencing him so she could think about how to make her next move against Zima and about the move after that—how to win Celia back.

Chapter Twenty

What was it Celia had said? If she never had to be back inside the police station again it would be too soon. Well, three days later was way too fucking soon.

“Anything else about the phone call from Dex you can tell me?” Brax asked.

She shook her head. “No, that was everything.” She bit her lip, afraid to give words to the fear that had been gnawing inside her since Grant had spirited her out of the shop two hours ago. But she was more afraid not to have an answer. “Is this because of me? Because of what I said to Dex? Did I do this?”

Brax stood, circled his desk, and claimed the visitor chair next to her. Three days and another incident had not done the chief any favors. He looked even more flattened, more exhausted than he had on Sunday, but there was still something about him that calmed her, that made her believe he’d help make everything all right. “By all accounts, Dex had no idea what was going on. No matter what you said to him on that call, this would have likely still happened. This was not your fault.” He held her fidgeting hands in both of his. “It’s hard loving them,” he said, and the same pain that had haunted Holt’s face the past week emerged on Brax’s. He wasn’t talking about Dex or exes anymore. He was talking about the other people—the Madigans—who played a starring role in both their lives. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he licked his lips like he was searching for the right words to make her feel better. She appreciated that he gave her the truth instead. “I’m not gonna lie,” he said. “This will probably not be the last time we meet like this, but they always manage to pull through. We just have to have faith and do what we can to help.”

“And pick up the pieces after?”

“Someone has to.” He smiled, a weak yet fond thing. “I’m always here, Cee, if you need me.”

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