Page 66 of Redd

“Those guys were talking about having to guard something worth fifty grand, they said jewel. Maybe he never told you about them.”

Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why would you go looking for jewels in someone's home?”

“Bijou. . .” The word rolled off his tongue, weighted with more letters than my name had to offer. “I'm not who you think I am. I'm not a hero, I'm not your hero. I take, that's what I do. That's what I've always done.”

His eyes blazed, glazing over and darkening like a shaded pool. I didn't know what to think about this man. But one thing became clear, Redd was a thief.

“Yeah, you got that right.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

How naive was he? Did he really expect he'd be able to just waltz into Diablo's home and take what he wanted? He had no clue the repercussions that were coming his way.

“There are no jewels, Redd, there never were.”

“Maybe Diablo never told you about them. Those men said jewel, that's why I went there in the first place.”

“You're wrong. They said jewel, but they didn't mean actual jewelry, or any shit like that.”

Laughing, Redd glanced between me in the mirror, the store, and the vehicle he didn't trust. “What else could they mean? I know what I heard, and I know what they said.”

“They were talking about me. I'm what they were guarding, I'm the jewel.”

His expression turned to stone, brows dipping in and knitting together. Studying my face, his eyes stilled inside the sockets. He wasn't understanding what I was saying, assuming I was crazy for even insinuating I'd have an actual value.

“Bijou—it's french for jewel, Redd. You took exactly what you went there for, you just didn't know it.”

Maybe now he would understand the trouble he was in.

Maybe now he would take me seriously and not brush the danger under the rug.

Redd had planned on fixing the situation. . .

All I could do was hope he still felt that way.

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