Page 74 of Dirty Love

“He didn’t.” My heart is pounding. We were watching Rook. He didn’t go anywhere.

“He flew himself.” Fuck, the look of pride on Grant’s face disgusts me. And the thing is, it’s justified. They’ve bested me.

“He’s got Tabitha?” I swallow my anger, my rage, and I force it down, hard, until it’s a hard, cold pack of computational fuel. I need data and I need it fast.

“Picked her up from the hotel just before you sent your buffoon to get me. They’re watching together now, but not for long.”

Sick, cold fear slides into my stomach. “And where did he take her?”

He laughs. “You’ll never find out.”

Then he pulls out a gun.

Whoa. Rule number one of this very real fight club is no guns. Like the Red Sea, the crowd that hadn’t been paying us any attention parts around us. Nobody runs, nobody panics, but the mood is very tense and the focus is now entirely on us.

I can use that.

Fuck.

You don’t bring a knife to a gun fight. Or fists. Usually not a good plan. But they’re all I have. That and my brain.Think, asshole.

I let out my breath, then inhale again, slowly stepping to the left. Moving both of us, because he’s following me in the circle, so he’s not pointing his weapon at anyone other than me.

And I’m closing the gap a bit, too. Just enough he won’t notice. “This is a bad idea, Grant. You don’t want to do this here. Lots of witnesses.”

“Nobody here will stick around to speak to the cops.”

“You sure about that? That’s not a smart bet to make, and you’re a smart guy. Look,” I hold up my hands, palms out. Little closer. “This is just a disagreement. Nothing to see here. Let’s go outside.”

His eyes dart to the door, but he doesn’t want to move. Why not? Outside would be a better place to shoot me. The second he pulls that trigger, he’s going down, he’s gotta know that. Outside he has a chance to run.

My brain spins, trying to see this space, this situation, from his perspective. Where did he come in from? Not the door behind me. The far end of the warehouse. The parking lot of the building next door.

That’s where he plans to run, when everyone is stampeding out this exit.

He’ll never make it. Idiot.

I need more from him. “How about we call your brother? I’ll explain to him that this was all on me. I’ll explain that to the police, too. We’ll straighten this out for him, and for you, and the only person who will take any kind of fall will be me.”

His shoulder pulls up when I mention the cops. Okay, I won’t do that again. But he’s frowning, too, like he’s not sure what to do. Poor planning, guys, if it’s this easy to create confusion.

And again, he’s reluctant to be moved away from the line-of-sight of the far exit. He doesn’t go as far as to look in that direction, but there’s a strong draw there.

What could be over there, specifically? Then it clicks.

His brother.

My woman.

Okay. I need to test that, then I need to take him out. But I don’t have a lot of time. He’s getting tense, and the acrid stink of fear is rolling off him now.

“The only thing that matters to me,” I say softly, “is making sure that Tabitha isn’t hurt.”

Flinch.

“Is that what he’s going to do? You can stop him. You’ve never hurt her in ten years. You’ve been cruel and unkind, but you’ve never physically laid a hand on her. I see you. I see how you’ve protected her in your own way.” Fucking hell, that’s hard to say.

I’ve never struggled to lie in a situation like this before.

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