One is a bit taller than the other, his hair longer and pulled out of his face with a hair tie. A thick scar cuts through his left eyebrow, and when he glares back at me, I note one eye is blue while the other is brown.

The second man is shorter, his blond hair cut close to his scalp. He stares back at me from beady eyes that hold absolutely no remorse.

“Thank you,” Carter tells the guards once they’ve secured the men’s hands to the table in front of them.

The guards leave, and Carter takes a seat across from them while I remain standing in the corner.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” The one with the different-colored eyes sneers.

“You don’t recognize me?” I move a bit farther into the room.

Realization dawns, and the men look at each other. “You survived, huh?”

“I did.”

“Good. Then our murder charges will get dropped.”

“To attempted murder, sure,” Carter replies. “However, as I told you before, I can get those changed as well, lessen your sentence, for one simple name.”

“Mr. Rogers.” The one with the beady eyes scoffs. “There’s a name for you.”

Carter doesn’t bite, but I see the frustration in the way he grinds his teeth together. “Who are you working for?”

“Man, are you deaf?” the multicolor-eyed one snaps. “We told you we don’t work for anyone.”

“Which is a lie,” I say. “I know you work for Zeke Phillips.”

The smallest twitch from beady eyes.

“I know he represents Willy Carson, who you both are known associates of.” The last part is a lie—at least in the sense that I don’t have any actual proof of it.

“You don’t know nothing,” the longer-haired man states as he shakes his head.

I move in closer and plant both hands on the table between us. “I know that if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’m going to have my lawyer here step out and I’ll use the tactics I learned overseas, from men much scarier than your boss, to get the answers I seek.”

Beady Eyes swallows hard.

“Carter—”

“No,” Beady Eyes replies.

“Shut your mouth, Gil,” Multicolored Eyes snaps.

“No, Gil. Speak. We can make a deal just for you if your buddy here wants to keep his mouth shut.”

“All I’m going to say is that you don’t know who you’re up against,” Gil replies. “You can torture us. Beat us. Whatever it is you think you can do? He’s worse. And you’ll never see him coming.”

“We’ve managed so far.”

They look at each other and laugh, then turn back to me. “You’re missing a big part of the picture there, bodyguard. And by the time you figure it out, it’ll be too late.”

The door opens, and Zeke Phillips strolls in, his expression furious. Carter stands, and I start toward Zeke, only stopping when Carter puts a hand on my arm.

“I would love to know why you think it’s appropriate to meet with my clients without their lawyer present.” Zeke pays me no attention despite the fact that I know he recognizes me. And somehow, the genuine lack of focus on me angers me even more.

“Don’t you recognize me?” I ask. “Or do I look different without a bullet hole and my hands chained above my head?”

Zeke glances in my direction, then turns back to Carter. “Your associate here obviously has me confused for someone else. And you must be confused yourself about appropriate behavior as a public prosecutor. Otherwise, you would have realized that meeting with my clients without me present is highly inappropriate.”