Page 25 of Brutal Ice

“There’s no way she can actually identify you, right?” Avalon continued with a nervous glance around the club. “I read the reports the police had.”

Of course, she would have. She had so many friends at the PD. Avalon was a true crime writer. The cops and the DA were tight with her.

Meanwhile, those people tended to hate him and Beau. So I have to resort to different tactics in order to get my intel.

“She doesn’t know your actual identity,” Avalon continued in her ever-so-careful voice. “Please, tell me that she doesn’t know?—”

The door to Royal’s office flew inward. Violet stood on the threshold. Her eyes were wide and stark and utterly horrified as she stared at him.

He remembered, too late…the fucking files.

Oh, shit. This would look bad. More like hellish to her.

She was opening her mouth, and he knew that she was about to scream. With the music blasting, most people probably wouldn’t hear her.

But he couldn’t take the chance on her drawing any unwanted attention.

He leapt for her. And even as she began to scream, his hand covered her mouth, and he shoved her back into his office.

Chapter Five

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Her eyes were wide and terrified, and her hand rose up to claw at his. Fast—and carefully because he would be damned if he hurt her—Royal spun her around. He locked her back against his chest. One of his arms curled around her so that he could pin Violet’s arms to her sides. His other hand hurriedly flew back to cover her mouth before she could scream. “Don’t fight me.”

Uh, yeah, she fought. Violet drove her high heel down on his foot. Shit.

“What are you doing?” Avalon’s horrified voice as she rushed into the office after him.

Royal glanced toward his desk. He saw the crime scene photos spread out. He cursed beneath his breath. “I can explain,” he said to Violet.

She trembled in his arms.

Beau hurried in right behind Avalon. He hauled the door shut. Locked it.

The click of the lock seemed oddly loud, and when Violet flinched, Royal knew she’d heard it. Immediately, he let her go. The room had been soundproofed. Their words wouldn’t carry. Hell, even a gunshot wouldn’t carry. Not with the material he’d used. “I can explain?—”

She whirled and drove her fist right at his face. He caught it. Then realized he shouldn’t have. She deserved to throw a punch. Probably a few of them.

“OhmyGod!” Avalon’s cry. “She’s Violet Murphy.”

Violet’s gaze whipped toward Avalon.

Beau stepped forward as his stunned eyes raked Violet. “She’s the one you were just—fuck, man, you are screwed.”

Violet yanked her hand free of Royal’s grip, and she immediately ran for the door. Only Beau blocked her path.

“It’s not what you think,” Beau said quickly. He held both of his hands in the air. Probably in a pose that he wrongly believed made him look non-threatening.

“He’s a killer!” Violet cried.

Those words pierced right through Royal.

“He has pictures, he has—” A deep inhale as she gestured toward Royal. “I thought he saved me. He’s the one who took me!”

“I’m not,” Royal denied. He kept his voice flat with an effort. He’s a killer. His hands had fisted at his sides. The better for him not to reach out and grab her again. “I did save you.” One of the precious few times in his life that he’d done the right thing.

She darted around Beau. His brother made no move to stop her. Neither did Avalon. Violet’s fingers were reaching for the lock.

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