Page 29 of Brutal Ice

“We should probably go,” Avalon murmured.

Royal didn’t take his eyes off Violet. “The hell you are.”

She leaned closer to him. “The hell I am.” A nod. “Because if I don’t, if you don’t agree to partner with me, then I will be going to the cops. I will tell them that my memory has suddenly become one hundred precent crystal clear.”

Royal blinked.

“We should definitely go.” Avalon’s voice was much firmer. “Great meeting you, Violet. Can’t wait to see the show. I’ve heard you’re an incredible dancer. Beau, let’s go.”

Royal cut a glance at his brother. Avalon was tugging on Beau’s arm, but Beau was currently an immovable object.

“We aren’t done,” Beau informed him. “Not even close.”

Right. A reckoning would come. Just not now. One crisis at a time.

Beau swung away and marched out with Avalon. And when that door closed again…

“Am I going to the cops?” Violet asked sweetly. “Or are we hunting?”

Royal clenched his teeth. “You don’t want to fuck with me,” he gritted out.

“Oh, but I do,” she told him. “I do.”

Chapter Six

You don’t want to fuck with me.

Violet yanked back her poking finger.

I do. That—that wasn’t what she’d meant. She didn’t want to actually fuck him.

Liar, liar.

She wanted?—

His hands curled around her shoulders. “You’re out of your league.”

A league that involved hunting killers? Yes, probably. Way out. A million times out. But she was also not going to just sit around and wait for the bad guy to come after her again. Being afraid every moment wasn’t cutting it for her. “I recognized Avalon when I saw her.”

His hold tightened.

“I read her books.” Back when she’d been a true crime addict. Back before she’d become a victim, and everything had changed. “I know what she’s done. I don’t have to call the police chief or anyone else in order to get verification on her.”

“You aren’t working with me.”

“Then I guess I will be making a trip to the police station so that I can reveal my miraculous memory turnaround.” Blackmail? Is that what she was doing? Maybe. No, definitely. She backed away, expecting him to release her.

He didn’t. He did haul her closer.

“You think this is a game?” His hazel eyes glittered down at her. “Women are dead. Go back to your brother’s house. Go back to the guards I have on you?—”

“You have guards on me?” Since when? Her mouth hung open in surprise.

“Don’t play with me.”

“Don’t you play with me!” Violet returned. “This is my life. Mine. He took me. He knocked me out. He tossed me in that trunk. And I am the one who was going to get up close and personal with his knife.” Don’t think about the pictures. Don’t. “I want him caught. The cops don’t seem to be doing much. They think he’s just some stalker I picked up?—”

“He is a stalker.”

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