Page 12 of His to Possess

Shit, shit, shit.My gaze locks onto not-Grady. Hell, my brain is so scattered right now, I don’t even remember hottie’s real name. Andrew? No. Something like that, though.

“Yeah, I just realized that,” I admit, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. “I can let him go and?—”

“Butterfly, listen up and listen closely,” Fox interrupts. “You messed up big-time and now you’re in a shit-ton of trouble. You both are.”

I frown, not liking where this conversation is going. “What do you mean we both are?”

Tall, dark and handsome locks gazes with me. “What’s going on?” he asks, but I shush him.

“You both have a price on your head.”

“What?” I yell, completely shocked by what he said. “How? Why? Who the hell did it?”

I’m so flustered, I can barely see straight and I start pacing back and forth across the room. How did this happen and, better yet, who had the balls to do it? I need answers so I can attempt to fix this disaster.

“My sources say Grady got tipped off that someone was after him and he outsmarted you.”

“By swapping the gym bags,” I say to no one in particular, the pieces clicking together.

“I don’t know. All I know is there’s a new player in town—a mafia guy named Carmine Gallo. He’s friends with Grady and when Grady found out what was going on, he ran to Gallo for help, and he’s the one who put a price on your head. And we’re not talking a price for bounty hunters.”

Oh, my God.As the meaning of his words sink in, the horrible significance, I struggle to draw in a breath. This entire thing has spiraled out of control and I swallow down the rising lump of panic in my throat. “Assassins,” I whisper.

“Yeah. You and your new friend are currently at the top of the Kill List.”

I suck in a sharp breath and look over at the man I was supposed to deliver, alive, for a decent paycheck. Now, he’s in as much trouble as me. Because I know there’s no way off the infamous Kill List until one of the many assassins in NYC puts a bullet in your head.

There has to be something I can do. “I need help, Fox.” I hate the slight edge of desperation lacing my voice, but this is serious. Deadly serious. Something I’ve never faced before and I’m not sure what to do. For the first time in my life, I need help.

“Look, I’m sorry, Butterfly, but it’s out of my hands now. There’s no way I can protect you without this shitshow coming back and fucking me over. That’s not something I can afford to do. Not even for you.”

Gee, thanks a lot.Although, what did I expect? “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

He’s not sorry; he’s just worried about himself. But can I blame him?

“Good luck.” He hangs up and I want to throw my phone across the room and scream until my lungs ache. But that’s not going to solve anything. I’ve always been a woman of action and I’m smart enough to figure a way out of this predicament. I just didn’t expect to have anyone in the passenger seat as I made my getaway.

I finally stop pacing and cross my arms, staring into my captive’s amazing, dark irises. “We have a problem,” I state without preamble.

“Yeah, I kind of got that impression from your side of the conversation.”

How do I explain to this guy that I fucked up so badly that we both now have to run for our lives?

“Shit,” I hiss and start pacing all over again.

“Look, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad,” he says, and I throw my head back and laugh. “Tell me what’s going on and I’ll help get us out of it.”

“You?” I scoff. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

I don’t mean to sound so condescending, but there’s no way this Joe Nobody can fix this shitstorm. Right now I need a miracle.

“Let’s just say I know people. The right people.”

I shake my head, dismissing him, and rack my brain for a solution. There has to be some way out of this and I will figure it out. I’ve always been good in a bind and I excel at challenges.And that’s all this is,I try to convince myself. Just a challenge to be overcome.

“What? You don’t believe me?” He lays the arm not handcuffed on the edge of the chair and my attention dips to his forearms. I lick my lips wondering why in the world I find his forearms so damn attractive? And especially at such an inopportune moment like this?

“Look, I’m sure a guy like you hangs out with plenty of local celebrities and jetsetting billionaires, but that isn’t going to help us right now.” I can’t help my sarcastic tone, but he’s starting to get on my last damn nerve. I have to think and he’s distracting me in every possible way.

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