Page 110 of Sinner's Secret

Baz nodded and stepped out of the way.

Her partner was frowning. “You make me sound like I’m a spoiled brat.”

“Nope, just determined.”

He walked into the room and approached her.

The neutral expression on his face changed into shock and horror as soon as he got close enough to see her clearly in the weak light of the single lamp Baz had on.

“What the fuck?” he said. He came closer, almost close enough to touch. “Holy shit, who did this to you?” His hand strayed toward his holstered weapon, and he shifted his position so he could see Baz as well.

“Not Baz,” she said firmly. “Or his cousin. The people who were trying to kidnap me found me here too. The Ruiz crime family from Brazil. One of them had fixated on me. He thought he could make me his wife, and if he hurt me enough, make me like it.” She pointed at her neck. “One of his goons did this after I demonstrated my resolve not to be his wife.”

Smith stared at her, unblinking, for a moment, then looked around the room. “Is he dead?”

Was he looking for evidence?

Baz rolled his eyes. “Yup, we buried his head under the floorboards and fed the rest of him to the koi in the pond downstairs.”

“Baz,” she smacked his arm. “Don’t say that. The next thing you know, he’ll have heavy equipment here to take apart the building.”

Smith looked at her for a moment, then turned to Baz. “You are a horrible influence.”

Baz lifted his hands in the air like he was innocent.

“Where’s your assailant?” Smith asked her.

“I don’t know.” She tried to shrug, but that just hurt her neck more. “His own people took him away. Then Baz and Yvgeny showed up.”

“There was another fight?”

Baz crossed his arms over his chest. “Intermixed with villain monologues and useless threats, sure.”

“Why didn’t you call me for help?” Smith asked as if he was hanging onto his temper by the slimmest thread.

“Because the addition of the police would have turned this into a hostage situation,” Baz said. “Then lots of people would have died.”

“That is not your call to make,” Smith said.

“Yes, it was,” Baz said in a patient tone. “She was in between two armed groups, one of which could care less about collateral damage. The only reason why we’re both not full of bullets is because I don’t have a gun.”

“The Ruiz crime family, huh? I’d like to speak with any of them who might be around.”

Baz lifted an eyebrow. “You think they stuck around to sightsee? They took off when it was obvious they weren’t getting what they wanted.”

Smith stared at him as if he’d spoken in a foreign language. Finally, he shook his head and turned to her. “So, is the danger to you over? Do you need to stay here? You’d be more comfortable at home, right?”

“Um,” she glanced at Baz. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re fine to go home if you want to,” Baz said with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “This place has the advantage of room service though.”

His eyes were sad, and they tightened an invisible band around her stomach.

She shrugged. “I might as well stay here and get some more sleep. I hear the chef is terrific.”

Smith ran a hand down his face. “Nika, I don’t think the department will like it much if you stay in a hotel owned by a company with questionable ties to organized crime.”

“Hey,” Baz said. “I’m not involved with my cousin’s business. I thought you knew that.”

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