Page 53 of Pump Fake

Brielle emerged, and my heart leaped into my throat. I wanted to run to her, but her arms were up by the back of her head. Something was wrong, and I needed to assess the situation. Each inch she moved forward played in slow motion, a horror flick that sent shock waves through me. Tears ran downher cheeks. A gun pressed against her temple as a man emerged slightly behind her. Rage almost blinded me.

“Hold,” Liam growled.

I knew the warning. It barely leashed me. I understood it wasn’t time to rush him. Not yet. We needed more information. Not at Brielle’s expense, though. I would take my chance if it presented itself, with or without incriminating evidence to ensure those assholes were locked behind bars. Dead would be better.

Kylian shifted closer, his phone discretely aimed at Brielle and Vincent Canino. Liam would do the heavy lifting with extracting information.

“We have a proposition for you, but only if you let her go,” I growled, shoving the barrel of my gun harder against Anthony’s head, revealing enough of the weapon for Vincent to notice. “Your son here was more than willing to help, but we thought a little assurance was in order since you have something that belongs to me.”

“Is that a fact?” Vincent gave nothing away other than the slight twitch near his left eye.

“Sports betting. We’re in a position to tip the scales for you,” Liam injected. “If you release Ares’s girl.”

“They’re full of shit!” Anthony shouted. “Don’t listen to them.”

Vincent cocked his head, his pose casual, unhurried, despite the continued disturbance happening somewhere beyond those immediate walls. “You’re hardly in a position to offer advice, seeing as three college kids have you at their mercy.” His eyes hardened, and he sneered, disgust etching harsh lines around his mouth and between his salt-and-pepper brows. “This is why I haven’t handed anything of significance over to you. You’re a constant disappointment.”

“This wasn’t my fault. Paulie and?—”

“Shut up!” Vincent shouted, his face darkening. “Not another word.”

Kylian reached around Anthony and slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth, effectively silencing him.

“What makes you think I need inside men on your team? Or that I’m even interested in college sports betting?”

“We heard whispers on the street. Anthony’s guys like to talk,” Liam improvised. “They told us Chief Williams is on your payroll and we should contact him. But we preferred to go to the source.”

“Especially since you have Brielle.” My voice was tight, my skin stretched uncomfortably across my body.

“We know Chief Williams has been on the take for years. Also, he has a gambling problem.” Liam directed the conversation.

“No point in giving him a heads-up on how the game’ll go so he reaps the benefits.” Kylian drew Vincent’s suddenly interested gaze. “Besides, he’s a bit full of himself. Thinks he has more pull than he probably does.”

Everyone in the college sports world knew who Kylian Wilder was. I could see Vincent salivating at having control over him for college and the NFL.

“And you learned of Chief Williams how again?” Vincent said through clenched teeth.

“Tony, but he’s not talking anymore.” I fed Vincent the name we’d learned when Fiona had shown us the pictures of Anthony’s bodyguards. Since he was the one with the broken neck, I didn’t have to feel bad about giving him up to a bullet between the eyes, courtesy of his boss. “You’re not going to demand we go through him, too, are you?”

“No. It seems we need a cleanup in our organization.”

Anthony mumbled loudly behind the duct tape, straining against my hold.

I smirked, notching my head toward Anthony but nevertaking my eyes off Vincent. “Your son confirmed everything and also told us to go through Williams. We had other ideas.” I couldn’t look at Brielle while we set things in motion. We didn’t have much time as the noise grew louder. “What’ll it be, Mr. Canino?” I asked. “Do we have a deal? Brielle comes with me, unharmed, and we’ll discuss game outcomes?”

“We can negotiate.” Vincent shifted, and the barrel of his gun tipped up slightly.

The door at the end of the hallway slammed open. Armed cops with Kevlar vests and guns drawn rushed in. I didn’t think. Shoving Anthony at Liam, I charged Vincent.

He’d turned his head at the commotion. It was perfect. Brielle’s gaze met mine, and a silent communication slid between us.

She mouthed, “Do it.”

I reacted as she flung her arm up, knocking the gun from her head and twisting away from Vincent. He still had her, though.

I threw my body behind my fist, slamming it into the side of his face. Terror vibrated around me. Anything I did could hurt her, which was the last thing I wanted. He jerked back from the power of my punch, Brielle’s hair still clutched tightly in his fist. She cried out, her body bowing back as he fell.

My fingers curled around Vincent’s hand, twisting backward until his wrist gave with a crack. The gun fell from his useless fingers, and he released Brielle. She fell. I lunged, grabbing her outstretched hand before she hit the floor. Hauling her to me, I wrapped my arms around her then pivoted so her back was against the wall, shielding her as chaos swarmed around us. Her body trembled against mine.

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