Page 51 of Ruthless

“Do you happen to know around what time that was?” When she stares at him in confusion, he tacks on, “I had my assistants over, and I want to make sure they know what time is too late to be working. The last thing I want is to be unneighborly.”

She taps a finger against her chin as she thinks about his words. “It must have been around eight. That’s when my Murder She Wrote marathon starts.” She casts a sheepish look at Asher. “I like a good bit of mystery.”

“Angela Lansbury is a true treasure.” Isaac is laying it on thick, and I have no fucking idea how he even knows what she’s talking about, but I’m willing to let him roll with it if we can get our answers.

“That she is.” She nods. “Anyway, Thor was going crazy and barking so loud I couldn’t even hear it.”

“Did you happen to catch a glimpse of them leaving?” It’s a long shot, but it’s still worth asking, just in case.

Her lips purse together as her head tilts to the side. “Why?”

“So I know who I need to tell,” Isaac offers by way of explanation.

She thinks on it for a solid minute while the entire room goes silent, waiting on her answer. “Well, no. But I did hear one of them talking into a walkie-talkie thing like my grandsons used to play with.”

“Could you make out what he said?” I’m hoping she can give me something that’ll tell me who he is.

“Not really. The television was up pretty loud to drown out the noise, but I know it was in Spanish. My husband was fluent in it, and I picked up enough to recognize it when I heard it.”

That’s something we didn’t know before, at least.

Kennedy did mention that she is the eyes and the ears of their floor. Her having missed whoever was in here tells me all I need to know. They’re professionals, which means we need to up our game and get ahead of this before it’s too late.

CHAPTERTWENTY

Kennedy

Zane is sitting as far back as the seat will allow, but there isn’t much room in my Honda Civic for a guy of his size. He might as well be driving one of those clown cars for as out of place as he looks. He’s hunched over the steering wheel because his head hits the roof. The fit is so tight that he had to take his hair down because otherwise, he wouldn’t make it inside. Even his oversized hands swallow up most of the steering wheel.

“What?” His dark eyebrows pinch together as he catches me staring.

“Nothing.” I bite my lip and do my best to fight the urge to laugh. It could be from the trauma of having my apartment trashed, but there’s just something about seeing the broody bastard driving my car that has me busting out in a fit of giggles.

He spares me a glance before shifting his gaze back onto the road. “I’ve never heard you laugh like that.” His hand tugs on the seam of his jeans as he clears his throat. “Now you have to tell me, Ken.”

“You just look huge, is all.” I gesture to his hunched seating position. “It can’t be very comfortable driving like that all bunched up against the steering wheel.”

“I’ll admit I miss the room the cab of my truck had.” His eyes narrow as he undoubtedly remembers what a mess his truck is now. I asked if he would take it to a shop, but he said he would cut his losses and get a new one.

“And that’s why you should have let me drive.” My humor fades a bit. I’m still annoyed that he pulled that macho crap about driving, but he did have a valid point. After he, his brother’s and now the newest addition to the group, Isaac, checked over every inch of my car, Zane and I argued over who was going to drive. Just because he’s the man doesn’t automatically mean he gets the keys.

Then he reminded me of our last car trip together, and I caved. I do not want to be behind the wheel if we’re shot at again. Axel and the other two guys may be following behind us, but it’s still a risk I do not want to take. My dad always said to pick your battles, and this is one that I’ll happily let slide.

“Hopefully, the trade-in value for this is decent,” Zane’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

“Excuse me? Trade-in value?” That has me sitting up straighter in my seat and cocking my head at him.

Zane nods but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “I prefer you and my kid in something that won’t crush like a fucking tin can if something happens.” I want to be angry at him, but he is talking sense, and damn if that doesn’t irritate the crap out of me even more.

“And asking me what I want was just out of the question for you?” It’s a struggle to keep my voice neutral when I really want to shout at the top of my lungs at him.

Zane must sense the hostility brewing in the air between us because he switches course and takes a different approach. “No. But you’re a smart woman, Ken, and something tells me that you too want what’s best for our family. And that’s what we are now—a family. You, me, and that little one inside you.” His hand gestures to my stomach without taking his gaze off the road.

When he’s rational like this, it drives me insane. I can’t lash out because he’s making sense, yet again. A heavy sigh escapes me as his words resonate, hitting his designated target and my weakness. Still, it doesn’t mean I have to comply so easily. I am no doormat. “That may be true, but it’s one thing to have someone make decisions for you without asking or including you. As afamily,these are things that should be discussed together.”

Zane stays silent, working over what I’ve just said in his head. “Fair enough.”

“Thank you.” That was easy. I expected him to put up a bigger argument about him being the man and all that crap again—the same song and dance my dad and brothers always give me.

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