“I know you captured her in Mexico.”
“How do you know that?”
“Camera feed.”
Since Hawke had been wearing a ski mask, Simon couldn’t have known the identity of her captor.
One of the men aiming his weapon at Olivia said, “I owe the girl a few bruises. She busted my nose.”
Olivia’s body tensed, and she released a growling sound.
“What’s wrong?” Hawke asked.
“I recognize his voice. He’s one of the men who attacked me in my apartment.”
“Then he’s yours,” Hawke said.
“Damn straight,” Olivia said softly.
That answered the question of whether Simon had been responsible for the attack on Olivia. Just as Hawke had figured, they’d been looking for Iris’s whereabouts.
“I’m tired of this shit,” Simon snarled. He pressed his gun against Hawke’s forehead. “Tell me where she is!”
From the dark depths of the warehouse, a female voice said, “She’s right here.”
Ignoring the gun at his head, Hawke twisted around and could only gawk at the woman standing a few feet away.
For a dead woman, Iris Gates looked amazingly healthy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Life no longer made sense. All the things Olivia had thought she knew, had been sure of, had gone up in smoke. Her mother was alive, her ex-fiancé had tried to kill her, and Eve, her beautiful, precious friend, was injured, and Olivia had no idea how badly, or if she was even alive.
How the hell had things gotten so twisted?
Showing he was made of sterner stuff than she was, Hawke let out a little laugh. “Iris, you never fail to make an impression.”
“Thank you, Nicholas,” Iris said.
Dressed in black cargo pants and a thin black T-shirt, Iris not only looked healthy and vibrant, she also appeared to be supremely pleased with herself. A small, satisfied smile twitched at her mouth, but her eyes were just as cold and evil as they had always been.
“I don’t suppose you want to tell us how you faked your death. Especially considering an autopsy was performed on your body.”
“Have to admit, that did sting a bit.” When no one reacted, she laughed. “Come on. Where’s everyone’s sense of humor?”
“Sorry, I lost mine when I was ten years old,” Olivia snapped.
Why she’d said that she didn’t know. Bringing up the beating she’d received at the hands of this woman served no purpose. Except it likely made Olivia look weaker than she already felt.
“I’m not going to apologize for that, Olivia. You learned an important lesson that day.”
She couldn’t argue that point. She’d learned multiple lessons. And every time she looked at her back in the mirror, she was reminded of them.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Iris move her hand and show four fingers. Before Olivia could figure out what that meant, there were four pops, and the four men holding guns on her and Hawke went down. Her mother had obviously brought her own reinforcements.
Simon stared at the dead men in horror. “What did you do, Iris?”
“My job, dear boy,” Iris said mockingly. “You’ve been bad, haven’t you?”