Page 120 of The Marine

Josh pulls out his phone. “Detective White.” He listens for a moment. “Yeah, well, we can discuss that another day. Right now, I have a fugitive you might want to pick up.”

He chuckles and gives him the address.

Telling the cops any earlier wasn’t going to benefit anyone. We didn’t know if Kael would show up. And once he did, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Josh gives me a nod and I make my way over to where Kael is hovering with a glass of wine. I wave out to a waiter, and he serves me a tumbler of whisky from his silver tray.

“Can I get you anything else, sir?”

I shake my head, sipping as I watch Trevis. I know he can feel my eyes on him. I keep staring. Because I want this moment with him.

The cops will be six minutes.

Possibly four.

It takes another thirty seconds for him to turn his head. There’s no warmth. No surprise.

But there is a familiarity in his gaze.

Well fuck, he’s been expecting me. He knows who I am. And if I’m right, he knows I’ve been sleeping with Briar.

I lift my glass, toasting him, and take a sip.

Taunting him.

He drops his glass on the table and wanders over, stopping a few feet in front of me. Sliding his hands into his pants, he tilts his head.

“So, you fucked my wife,” Trevis says.

“Did I?” I lift a brow.

He watches me carefully and I have to say, for a fugitive on the run, he’s extremely calm.

Then again, the fact he’s standing here tells me he thinks my interest is in Briar. Not his criminal record.

“Why lie? You think she’s going to leave me for you?” he asks.

“Yes.” I sip again.

The tips of his ears turn a little red and I know I’m aggravating him. I finish the dark golden liquid, and the server appears rapidly, taking it from me. Then I take a step in Kael’s direction.

We’re both uncomfortably close for enemies.

“Briar won’t be leaving with you today. Or any day.” I speak slowly and carefully as the sound of sirens fills the air.

Not an unusual sound in Los Angeles.

It doesn’t matter now if he tries to run. He’s surrounded by no less than twenty-five paramilitary experts who have faced far more dangerous men than him.

Piece of shit.

“She will do as she says. I’m her husband.” Then he hisses, “Touch her again and I­’ll—”

I step right into his face.

“Finish that sentence and it will be the last thing you ever fucking do.”

Josh walks up behind him and stops. Johnny freezes as the cold metal of the gun against his skin catches his attention.

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