Nathan’s odds of survival dropped to zero if Roy didn’t believe her. She raised her chin and held his suffocating gaze. “No. You murdered my one and only lover.” Her body pulsed with the desire to watch his eyes empty of life.
One of the few dependable forces of good in her world stood a parking lot away with his cover blown and a bullet pointed at his gut. She was too far away to shoot the Craig threatening Nathan. And where there was one Craig, there would be more spread out around her, their guns trained from their hiding spots.
Though the bulk of the crowd had scattered into the street to chase Jay’s SUV, some milled about as if waiting for him to return.
Two police officers lingered at the entrance of the lot, directing the streams of foot and motor traffic. They glanced at Roy and turned their backs. So much for serving and protecting.
“I am your only lover.” Roy pressed his nose against her cheek and inhaled. “It’s been three years and I can still smell you on the pillow next to mine. Three years, Charlee. My life is hollow without you.”
She laughed and found her courage in the sharp intake of his breath. Found it and fortified it with the realization that this was the first time she faced him without shackles. The first time she could address him in any manner she wanted. “You’re not my lover. I’ve never loved you. You’re my abuser, my ball-and-chain, and you’ll be hollow when I’m standing over your dead body.”
He dug his fingers into her shoulder and flicked his eyes over the bystanders. Oh, he wanted to beat the shit out of her.
Weaving through the cars and people was the ever dependable Craig, Salvador. He strode toward an SUV and unlocked it. There were two other lone men prowling opposite corners of the lot with bulges under their jackets where shoulder and hip holsters would be.
Nathan was too far away to read his eyes, but the set of his shoulders and raised chin said he was ready to prove there was no worse enemy than an avenging Marine. His handgun should’ve been in the inside-the-pant clip holster on his hip unless the Craig had confiscated it. Maybe he didn’t need it. Given his military combat training, he could disarm the gun aimed at him. She knew he was waiting for her to do something. For the right moment to take his eyes off her. What could she do?
She swallowed, her throat dry. The smallest mistake would cost him his life. And any threat to Roy’s life would beckon the nearby cops.
“Mr. Winslow is just an incentive for you to leave quietly.” He wrapped a hand around her throat, pinched her airflow, and dragged her to the vehicle. “If you draw attention, he’s dead.”
If she got in that SUV, Nathan was dead. She thrashed against him and screamed with burning lungs. Nothing came out. No sound. No air. There were a few stares in her direction, but no one moved to intervene.
He wrenched her through the vehicle’s open door by her neck. She grabbed the roof, bucked against him, and tried to make a scene.
The Craigs corralled. Her fingers slipped. The agony from the vise on her throat tapered her thoughts to one. Kill him. She released the roof and reached for the gun at her back.
Tires squealed and an engine rumbled, approaching from behind. More Craigs? The cops? Brakes screeched. Roy let go of her throat and spun toward the commotion.
Oh, thank God. Gulping for oxygen, she turned just as Roy shifted back. Face-to-face, she yanked the gun from her waistband. Flicked off the safety. Lined up the sights on his chest.
Inhale.
He looked at her gun. Looked at her. Then the monster smiled.
Exhale.
41
Crammed in the backseat between three of his bodyguards, Jay covered his head with the hood of the sweatshirt he’d borrowed from O’Neil and pushed the sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Never separate us again.” The directive exploded from deep in his chest and echoed in the small space. He lowered his voice. “From this point on, Charlee is your principal. Her safety supersedes mine. And hurry the fuck up.”
With all the people in the street, it was taking an eternity to make their way back to the parking lot. He stared at the nasal spray in his hand, needing it to numb the rage that sent his jaw into enamel-grinding spasms.
“Yes, Mr. Mayard.” Tony held his gaze. “I’m aware of this as you advised me of your priorities before we left the apartment. I made the mistake in assuming a sniper aiming for your head superseded Miss Grosky’s security. I apologize. It won’t happen again.” Her glower didn’t look sorry.
Colson slammed on the brakes. Jay’s knees smacked into the console and his blow flew under the seat. Fuck the drug. She was out there alone. Every second counted. “Let me out.”
Too many bodies blocked his view. Bodyguards inside the car. Lollygaggers outside. “Can you see her? Let me the fuck out.”
A gunshot cracked the air and, for the second time that day, heart-stopping fear ripped his anger asunder.