*
“So what’s the plan?” Holt asked Michael. “You gonna shoot us in cold blood?” He looked over at Tank who had his gaze fixed on Ella. She was definitely a weak link as Tank had silently hinted, but Holt had also picked up on Michael’s hesitation. Michael was a lawman at heart and threatening to kill two innocent men clearly didn’t sit well with him. Maybe he truly was a dirty cop, with only a big payout in mind, but Holt had a feeling there had to be something else that would turn a man of Michael’s character into Viper’s puppet.
“Yup. That’s the plan.” Michael shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Ella. Her eyes widened, and she took a step back.
“Are you serious?” Her voice rose in pitch. “You’re going to kill them? I thought we were supposed to hold them until Viper got here.”
“Change of plans,” Michael said, his voice tight. “Viper’s not coming. He’s got the girl. He texted to say he wants them dead by the time he’s done the wedding ceremony.”
He’s got the girl. Viper had Naiya. Red sheeted Holt’s vision, and only the risk to Tank kept him from rushing Michael and grabbing the gun.
“You got all those forensic details accounted for?” Holt struggled to remember all the things Naiya had made him do to clean the crime scene at the lake, all the things she’d told him she would be doing in her job. “Like the blood splatter on the floor? You got a silencer for your gun? How are you gonna get our bodies out during the day? And if you don’t, how are you gonna keep the maids out until you do? Don’t bodies decay? If you leave us too long, are we gonna smell? Is Ella gonna clean up the blood on her hands and knees in that pretty white dress. She’ll have some explaining to do if this room is registered in her name. But then, you know all this ‘cause it’s your job. You catch the bad guys, protect citizens, and enforce the law.”
Michael’s gun wavered. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I don’t want to be a part of this,” Ella snapped. “Viper didn’t say anything about killing them or being an accessory to murder. I was supposed to bring James and his friend here. End of story. I’m not going to watch you shoot them. And I’m certainly not going to clean up when you’re done. This is crazy. You’re crazy. You’re a federal agent, Michael. Yes, we both got in a bad situation with Viper, but we’re not killers.”
With their attention focused on each other, neither Michael nor Ella noticed Holt take a small step forward. But Tank did, and he goaded them on.
“He is a killer,” Tank said, bitterly. “Naiya’s gonna die because of him. Once Viper gets what he wants, he’ll have no use for her. What does he want anyway?”
“He wants the twenty million dollar trust that’s in her name,” Michael said. “He’s going to use it to take over the Jacks nationwide. His ambition knows no end.”
Holt dropped one hand behind his back and wrapped his hand around the handle of the knife tucked into the sheath at his belt.
“Now that’s a story,” Tank said, keeping their attention. “Maybe if Ella had been offered a story like that she wouldn’t have made a deal with Viper. What story did he give you?”
“I got an insider look at the club. I got to see inside the clubhouse, interview some of the bikers about their day-to-day activities. No names. No identifying the club. His men talked behind a screen. But he let me in deep and he gave me the scoop on something so big it’s going to rock the White House. It’s Pulitzer Prize–winning stuff.”
“He’ll never let you show it.” Michael gave a derisive snort. “Viper doesn’t give out his secrets. I’ll bet your tapes will disappear or you’ll meet with a gruesome end before it’s ever broadcast.”
Holt pulled the knife along his back, calculating aim and trajectory. Someone was about to meet a gruesome end, and it wasn’t Ella.
“What does he have on you?” Tank asked Michael. “What turns a good cop bad?”
Holt tensed, lifted his forearm.
“He has my boy.”
At the last second, Holt flicked his wrist, causing the knife to veer a few inches above its intended target, embedding itself in Michael’s shoulder instead of his heart. Michael stumbled back, dropped the gun, his face a mask of pain.
Ella stared at him for only a moment and then lowered her weapon. “Go.”
“C’mon, brother.” Holt pulled open the door. “We have a wedding to crash.”
*
“We are gathered together here in the presence of these witnesses…”