Page 21 of Witness Protection

He hadn’t finished dressing, only wearing his jeans. What he wanted was to shove the barrel of his gun to her temple so she’d shut the fuck up. He flipped her around and shackled her wrists above her head. “You think you can escape? Think you can overpower me?”

She shifted her head from side to side, practically foaming at the mouth.

“Lucky for you, you’re more use to me alive than dead at the moment. That can change, so calm the fuck down.”

“You’re hurting me!”

He eased his weight off. “We’re leaving here. I don’t want any trouble out of you.”

“I won’t go anywhere with you.”

His patience was shot. He hadn’t even had his cup of coffee yet. Cayden grabbed a handful of her hair, keeping her head bent over as he walked her to his bedroom. She stumbled and whined, struggling with her cuffs. With his free hand, he picked up his handgun from the dresser. He pushed her backwards, so she fell onto his mattress. Then he braced one knee on the bed as he leaned over her, the gun to the side of her head. He practically got a hard on knowing how close he was to blowing her brains in.

“You know how this works, sweetheart. I pull the trigger. You die. That what you want?”

She shook her head, her fire petering out to nothing.

About damn time.

“This is the situation. I don’t want to be here. Because of you, I have half the city hunting me down. And I’ve missed my morning at the gym, so I’m extra cranky.”

“You shouldn’t have kidnapped me.”

He tightened his grip on the gun, not appreciating her tone, and tempted to end this right now. “No talking.” He stood back up, tucking his weapon in the back of his pants. Cayden removed her cuffs and chains. “Don’t fucking move.”

She lay there on the bed, rubbing her wrists, and watching him pull on a t-shirt and attach his harnesses. Staying in the hotel was too risky with a hit on his head. He needed to get off the grid for a while. Cayden had to gather information, and then he’d pick off his enemies one at a time until things were back to the status quo. He liked to live in the shadows, so knowing his name was public threw him way out of his comfort zone—and he put all the blame on Sophia Morenov.

He tossed one of his long-sleeved shirts at her. “Put this on. There’re cuts all over your arms, and I don’t want any attention drawn to us.”

She sat up and did as told.

“Who’s in charge now that your father’s gone?”

When she didn’t answer, he finished tugging on his jacket, then strode to the bed and grabbed her upper arm, giving her a sharp jostle. “Listen, princess, if you keep being difficult, I can make this very unpleasant for you.”

She scowled. “Like killing my father and kidnapping me? I spent the night on a bathroom floor. What more do you have in store?”

Cayden smirked without humor. “Use your imagination.”

Getting her out of the hotel without being noticed could end up badly if she made a scene. Considering how difficult she’d been, he didn’t trust her to behave. If he killed her now, he’d have less baggage. He also wouldn’t have collateral.

Decisions. Decisions.

It wasn’t even nine in the morning, and the day was already fucked up.

He packed his duffel bag, shoving everything inside, grabbed his phone, and double checked the room. Before anything else, he needed to clear his head. He grabbed her by the shirt and led her to the kitchen, pushing her down into an empty chair.

Cayden ran a hand through his hair as he searched the cupboards for a mug. He needed coffee … and another smoke.

“It’s me,” she said.

Her voice surprised him. With his coffee now in hand, he sat down at the opposite end of the table. “What are you talking about?”

“My father’s gone. That puts me in charge. I was his only child.”

He lit up a cigarette, savoring his first drag as he examined the girl. She was twenty-four. And looked nothing like her father.

“You’re not the one who put a hit on me. You were with me all night. There’s someone else. Was it lover boy up in the penthouse suite?”

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