Page 140 of Brutal Collateral

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Ava

Adreadful feelingclings to me when I leave the restaurant. I can’t get Rand Miller’s cold, dead stare out of my mind.

Bourne and I wait about five minutes for my Lexus to be brought around by an additional guard sent by Ares who doesn’t trust valets. Without looking back, I get into the SUV, but it feels like a shadow is following me.

Sure enough, a black car with tinted windows gets right on our ass.

But I can’t be one hundred percent sure of what I saw. What if I imagined that was Rand Miller? What if someone else is behind me? If I tell my guard we’re being followed, he might call a tag team to run the car down and kill the occupants.

There are only so many dead people I can have on my conscience. I’d been told Brandon’s mother had killed herself weeks before the hit team went to Mexico to end her life. I felt a small rush of relief that she didn’t leave this world because Griffin’s men killed her. Over me.

Shane is still hunting down whether or not the wedding killer is connected to Brandon’s mother. For all we know, he could have easily been some random Keller soldier on a suicide mission.

The car behind us doesn’t let up. My gut tells me Rand Miller is in that car. I can’t ask why, it’s obvious. He blames me for his head hitting those rocks and whatever the hell caused him to leave in an ambulance. He clearly survived the crash, though.

“Um, we can stop by my husband’s office?” I say to Bourne from the backseat.

This will also give me an idea if that car is truly following us. We’re headed in the opposite direction. Bourne will have to hook a left and go back south on First Avenue.

Bourne twists around. “Ma’am?”

“I’d like to see my husband,” I repeat, not understanding the hesitation. “Is that a problem?”

“No, Ma’am. Let me call ahead that you’re coming.”

Bourne was hired by Griffin’s cousins. I never asked how they know Bourne or how long he’s worked for the Quinlans.

“Absolutely not,” I bark, strangled with shame that my guard has been told I can’t just show up at Griffin’s office. “If you call him, I will have you fired.”

I hate making such a threat, but I will not be made a fool of.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He adjusts his tie and keeps driving.

If I find out Bourne is breaking some strict instruction that will make Griffin or anyone else in his family hurt my guard, I’ll get Atlas involved.

The unexpected drama interrupted my meltdown about Miller following us. But the weaving around side streets lost the car following us. Or maybe that was on purpose, too.

God, I’m rattled.

A few minutes later, the Lexus double parks, and Bourne turns around from the driver’s seat, red in the face. “Ma’am, if I can please—”

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