Page 74 of She Gives Love a Bad Name
“Damn it.” I shake my head. “It can’t be Billy. He had the perfect opportunity to kill me and didn’t.”
“I don’t think it’s him. It may be one of his men.” Grant takes my hand and holds it steady, tugging me closer. “When I went to your apartment the other day, your roommates said there were men hanging around outside. I think they’ve been waiting for you. Searching for a moment to finish it. I won’t give them the chance.”
“Surely, they wouldn’t do it in front of everyone...would they?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I’m not willing to take that chance. Are you?”
“No.” I bite my lip. “But if I’m not here when they show up, they’re going to leave.”
Grant and Claude exchange a long look.
“She can stand behind the bar, take cover if shit goes sideways.” Claude rubs his jaw. “Pap’s gun is right here if she needs it.”
“I don’t like this. Not one bit.” Grant sighs.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know, kid.” His lopsided smile makes my heart pound. “Okay, let’s run through this before Mickey comes with reinforcements.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Grant
My stomach sours whenI glance at my watch. Quarter to nine. The point of no return.
Everyone is in position. Mickey and the rest of the undercover officers are positioned around the building, covering every entrance and exit. There’s another unit stationed down the street, waiting for our signal if things go south.
All I can do at this point is hope and pray my half-cooked plan goes smoothly.
I sit at the bar, waiting, watching the front door out of the corner of my eye. Claude stands behind the bar about three feet from Quinn, who’s nervously tapping her fingers on the cooler by her hip.
When they walk in, she’ll be the first person they see. That should give them enough courage to come inside, sit down, maybe have a drink on the house. But it’s a tenuous peace offering, and they’ll know it.
When I took on this case, I hadn’t anticipated facing down Billy Donovan and his gang of thugs. They’re as ruthless as the Italian mob families scattered throughout the city. I don’t intend to make enemies tonight, but Donovan doesn’t know that. He’ll come at me, guns-a-blazing, if he senses I suspect him.
Which I don’t. If he wanted to kill Quinn, he would’ve done so the day he snatched her from my apartment. No. He’s a businessman—cutthroat to be sure, but if there’s money to be made from something, he’s not going to waste his resources. He’ll milk them dry, then discard the husk.
