The words died in my throat. Even in this dim, sickly light, her face was unmistakable. It was Lacey.
Terror and relief tore through me at the same time, leaving my knees weak and my heart pounding. Lacey had been kidnapped by drug-dealing psychos. That realization was instantly followed by another—Lacey was Barton’s precious little girl. Any relief I felt was instantly boiled away by anger.
She’d lied to me this entire time? She was Jerry fucking Barton’s daughter?
Alerted by the sounds of combat and thundering footsteps overhead, I lifted her limp body and slung her over my shoulder. We reached the top of the stairs just in time to hear Grey’s pistol boom. A man tumbled over in a heap, screaming and clutching his knee. The first man reached out to help him, but stopped when I aimed my pistol at him.
“I told you to stay still, motherfucker,” I growled.
Keeping his sights trained on the injured man, Greyson crept close and plucked the gun from his belt. He ejected the magazine onto the floor and threw the empty weapon across the room.
With one arm balancing Lacey’s dead weight over my shoulder and the other hand on my gun, I forced myself to stay cool. Whatever I might feel about her deception, this job wasn’t over yet.
I reevaluated our tactical situation. Two men, both disarmed, one with a busted shoulder and the other with a busted leg. All this fighting had made one hell of a ruckus, but nobody else had shown up. If any reinforcements were on their way, they would have already arrived. So either these two guys operated alone or their allies had bailed at the first sign of trouble.
Seriously? What a fucking joke.
I holstered my pistol, letting my hand linger on the stock. I knew I could draw it faster than these guys could close the distance between us. Cocking my head at the girl draped over my shoulder, I barked at the men, “Do you know who her father is?”
I was wondering what their motivation could be, and exactly how stupid they were. Had they been trying to hold Lacey for ransom? Did they have some kind of grudge against Barton? Or did they just abduct pretty girls and . . . ? I fought down another surge of anger.
Both men just gave me a surly glare. I slowly drew my pistol again, giving them plenty of time to imagine what might happen if they didn’t cooperate.
The second guy stayed tight-lipped; his face was white with pain. But the first one muttered, “Who gives a fuck about her daddy? She was Troy’s bitch; s’all that matters.”
I opened my mouth to ask, Who the hell is Troy? Then I remembered. I had come across that name before. Just last week, when I helped the FWPD investigate the collapsed Oklahoma City drug ring.
Jesus Christ. Lacey was a crime lord’s girlfriend? No, she used to be; Troy had come to a grisly end. But still, I never could have imagined this. When she’d told me that she was running from something, I’d assumed it was a broken heart she’d left back home. Nothing that a bottle of tequila and a rebound fling couldn’t fix.
Damn, how wrong I’d been.
I’d assumed these guys were either small-time thugs, attacking randomly, or using Lacey to target her father. But it had been neither. They were after Lacey herself. She knew something, owed them something—or at least, they assumed she did.
The longer I thought about it, the more this entire situation stank. When these guys snatched Lacey, Barton had instantly found out about it; he wouldn’t have kept such a close eye on them if he hadn’t expected trouble. He must have had some personal experience with this gang in the past.
Barton probably had his reasons for playing it cool, but why hadn’t I heard any of this from Lacey? She’d never mentioned that she was in deep shit with organized crime. Or the fact that her dad happened to be my boss.
She’d hidden this information from me. I didn’t know why. But I knew she had lied to me. Enough to start a shadow of doubt creeping over our whole relationship.
If there was one thing I couldn’t stomach, it was a liar. My entire life was devoted to control, exposing corruption and bringing order to the world. She’d brought all this to my doorstep with an innocent smile and those come-hither eyes.
Anger burned like molten lead in my veins. But I beat it back again; I still had business to take care of here.
“Looks like your lucky day,” I announced to the two men with a bravado I didn’t feel. “I’m not going to blow your fucking brains out. And if you want things to stay that way, you’ll leave this girl alone for good. She’s not involved with whatever sick shit you’re up to.”
Part of me wondered whether that was true. After what had just come to light, how could I be sure of anything? For all I knew, maybe Lacey had played a part in Troy’s business.
I shook my head, forcing myself to stop spinning in her secrets. We needed to get the hell out of here. There would be time for answers later.