Page 51 of Last Shot

‘I don’t have PTSD,’ Grey said. ‘And you’re not a doctor.’

‘I ...’ She was looking at him like he was delusional. Pitiful. This deranged criminal who might have tried to blow up the Barbaranis thoughthewas delusional. She closed her mouth. Was this edging too close to apersonal conversationfor Maxella Conrad?

‘How did you know about the backpack?’ he said.

‘What do you mean?’ Her voice sounded tentative, like he’d hit her in the sparring ring and she was dodging before the next blow.

‘The backpack. With the bomb inside it. How did you know it was there?’

‘Oh, you know, Greyson, it’s this really innovative, new fandangle piece of equipment I learnt to operate in my highly classified tactical training unit. My fuckingeyes.’

‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.’ He couldn’t help himself. She irritated him to the point where a rational conversation was impossible. Even one where he was accusing her of trying to murder all the Barbaranis.

‘Well, you’re clearly the expert on humour. Tell me the joke again about how you thinkI’mthe murderer.’ She made it sound ridiculous, glaring up at him in Nella’s singlet and her ripped jeans, one leg rolled slightly higher than the other, like he was a child who couldn’t count to ten.

But it wasn’t ridiculous. Was it? Max was the only one in that room who was a stranger. A criminal stranger at that. Her motive for being here, for forcing him to bring her into the inner circle of the Barbaranis, was the murder she swore would happen tomorrow night.

What if she was the one planning that murder?

Easier if she’s the bad guy, isn’t it? An actual reason to hate her, now that she’s seen who you really are. That what you’re looking for?

‘Okay, Greyson.’ She seemed to be following his unsaid thoughts. ‘I’ll play. If I’m a suspect, let’s interrogate me. Go on. What’s my motive?’

He considered this. ‘Revenge. You’re enacting a revenge plan on Libby Johnston’s behalf.’

She pursed her lips. ‘Not bad,’ she said. ‘But what exactly am I getting revenge for in this scenario?’

‘She blames the Barbarani–La Marca feud for her arrest. She wants them all to pay.’

‘But Kaine Skinner and the La Marcas were the ones who framed her. The Barbaranis are a pretty loose connection.’

‘What can I say? The criminal mind just loves destruction.’ He shrugged.

‘That’s not actually true,’ Max said. ‘Most people don’t commit crimes because they love breaking the law. A very small percentage of people murder just for the thrill of it. Most people commit crimes because of their circumstances – poverty, drug dependence, that kind of thing. They break the law because they have no other choice.’

‘So why did you commityourcrime?’ It was out of him before he could stop it.

Max’s throat bobbed as she inhaled deeply. Grey braced for the yelling. He probably deserved it. ‘Do you actually think I tried to kill you and the Barbaranis, andmyself, just to help out a mate I met in prison?’

He would have preferred it if she’d yelled. This calm, controlled version of Max was terrifying. He sighed. ‘No. I don’t think it was you.’

‘How kind of you to say.’ She was still using her faraway voice, but at least there was a hint of the familiar snark. ‘What about Skinner?’

Grey felt himself relax. Relieved that it didn’t seem like she was going to bring up the cellar again – and that hopefully he’d put a very firm, iron-sealed lid on the PTSD conversation – he jumped on her train of thought, grateful to be carried away. ‘Bombs aren’t Skinner’s style.’ He told her what he knew about Skinner’s kills. Kainewasa hit man, and he didn’t play with his prey. He executed with his gun when he wanted the bodies to be found, and when he didn’t, they weren’t. He didn’t like mess. A bomb was messy – it left too many clues about the person who planted it. And how would Skinner know they’d all be in there at that exact moment? Grey would have to ask Jett if the bomb had been detonated by Gio opening the bag or if it had been counting down the whole time.

‘I’m sure you will have considered the most unpleasant option?’ Max raised an eyebrow. ‘That it was left by someone who was in there when it went off.’

‘Of course I considered it,’ Grey said. ‘I considered it was you.’

She glared. ‘You know what I mean. Someone working for Skinner, maybe.’

‘I told you, it’s not Skinner’s style. And to suggest one of the Barbaranis is working with the La Marcas—’

‘You’re so brainwashed you can’t even see your own bias when it comes to them!’

‘I work for them!’ Grey said, his voice straining. ‘I can’t start investigating them! And I trust them. They are the only people I can trust. The most likely scenario is the La Marcas.’

She caught the underlying meaning in his words: he didn’t trust her. Her mouth thinned, eyes sparking as she shook her head. ‘You attach too much of your identity to them. You can’t separate yourself. You need to look at the bigger picture – you’re so focused on the family feud that you’ll miss any clues that it could be someone else!’

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