Page 83 of The Meaning Of You

“They were waiting for us.” His gaze flicked over my shoulder.

They.I turned my head to find a second person standing behind me. Leaner and smaller but dressed the same. Something hard nudged my back.

“Eyes front” came a vaguely familiar voice.

I wasn’t about to argue. “What do you want?” Like I didn’t know.

“Shut up.” The man behind Mads jabbed the muzzle of his gun into Mads’ temple. It forced him sideways, enough to reveal the cable ties circling his wrists. “We’re not here for conversation,” the gunman added.

Mads’ pleading gaze settled on mine and he gave a tiny shake of his head.Don’t fuck with them.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the gun. A fucking gun. My heart stuttered in my chest and my mind blanked. “Okay. Okay. No conversation. Got it.”

The man relaxed but left his gun where it was. “Put those bottles on the coffee table... slowly.”

I did as he said, my gaze locked on Mads whose expression was almost apologetic. I tried for a reassuring smile and failed dismally.

When I was done, the gunman spoke again. “The next five minutes can be as easy or hard as you make it. The choice is yours.”

“Either way ends with us taking what we want and leaving,” added the man at my back, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him. Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Was that you at the caravan?”

The man sighed like I’d disappointed him. “Now see, that was just plain stupid. What part of no conversation was unclear?” The gun turned on me.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch him.” Mads yanked hopelessly on the cable ties.

“I told you to shut up.” The gunman cuffed Mads across the ear with the butt of the gun and Mads let out a scream, blood spurting in a thin arc from the side of his head to the floor.

I was running before I knew it, all set to kill this motherfucker. “You leave him alone you—” I was grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground.

“Don’t move,” the familiar voice shouted down at me.

I looked up to find the gun back at Mads’ temple, the man holding it about two seconds away from pulling the trigger. “We only need one of you,” he warned, his voice muffled through the mask. “So I’m happy to kill him, if you insist.”

I looked to where Mads was slumped in the chair, head lolling, blood dripping from his ear onto his clean white shirt.Oh god.“Mads? Mads, are you okay?”

His eyes fluttered open and my heart started beating again. He gave a tiny nod, and I lifted both my hands as best I could. “I won’t try anything. I promise.”

The gunman reached for a phone lying on the table. “You catch all that?” he said to whoever was on the other end, eyeballing me as he listened to the reply. Then he nodded and glanced at the papers on the table. “You got the photo I sent? It’s not finished.” He listened again. “What if his name isn’t there?” He looked over at me. “All of it?” Another long silence. “Understood. We’ll meet you there.”

He dropped the phone into his pocket, nodded at whoever stood at my back, and then wiggled his fingers at me in a childish wave. “Been nice talking to you.”

A voice whispered in my ear, “Nitey-nite, arsehole.”

Pain exploded in the back of my head, my knees crumbled, and the floor lurched up to meet me.

Someone shouted my name and then everything went black.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nick

I jerked awake,my heart thundering in my chest, pain slicing through my head, and my lungs on fire.

Choking. Choking.

I couldn’t breathe.

A weight pressed down on my face. Sharp needles pricked at my shoulder. Soft suffocating fur— “Shelby, get off.” I groaned and swept the protesting cat from my face, then gasped a lungful of air. “Dammit, cat, you almost smothered me.”

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