“I want him to confess to the murder of his father.”

“But he didn’t do it!”

“I know he didn’t. I did.”

“What?” I stopped, but he only dragged me harder. His fingers dug into my skin causing me to hiss and glare at him.

“The bastard promised me money for killing his brother and didn’t deliver so I killed him for his debt.”

* * *

For John.

That’s what the message on the wall meant.

It all clicked into place. Q had lied to protect me, which meant Greg must have followed us that day. I don’t believe it was a mere coincidence. All I had to do was confirm it.

Wherever Greg took me, it wasn’t far. When he forced me into his car, he had run his hands down my body—looking for my phone is what he said. My skin still crawled from his touch. A bag, shielding my eyes had come next, and then he tied my hands.

“We’re here,” he singsonged.

“I’m being kidnapped,” I reminded dryly. “I don’t need a running commentary.” My head kept replaying the sight of Dash lying there so still. The agony of not knowing had consumed me since I was forced to leave him.

“You have a lot of mouth. I wonder how your little boyfriend shuts you up. I bet he sticks his cock in that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep it up, little girl, and I’ll do the same.”

The last thing I wanted was for him to touch me again. Unfortunately, he had to in order to get me from the car. He walked me up short steps, and then I heard a door open followed by another. I guessed he took me to a house and I prayed it wasn’t his. If I got out of this alive, I’d be scrubbing my skin nonstop for at least a week.

The bag was suddenly snatched from my head, and I immediately looked around for an exit. He had me in a room that was surprisingly clean. “Sit,” he ordered and remembering his threat, I didn’t hesitate. “She obeys. He’s trained you well.”

Trained me? Am I a dog?

I decided to keep the retort to myself and held still as he removed the zip tie. I was surprised he was taking chances. Maybe he wasn’t used to kidnapping. Either way, I intended to use my freedom of movement to get away first chance I got. With as much subtlety as I could muster, I looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon.

“Don’t think about it, or I’ll kill you as soon as I have what I want from your boyfriend.”

“Aren’t you anyway?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you go to waste. I always thought you were sexy. I wanted you in the worst way.”

“We’ve only met once.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend knew,” he said, ignoring my response. “I’m sure it’s the real reason he tried to bash my head in with a chair. He probably couldn’t care less about his precious niece.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. He wouldn’t kill you because I wouldn’t want him to, but he’d chop your heart into little pieces for her.”

“That’s touching but enough stalling. We have a job to do.”

“He’s not going to confess to a murder he didn’t do. You won’t intimidate him.”

“But I can persuade him.”

“How could you possibly persuade him to—Oh…”

“Yes, little lady. Oh.”

Chapter Twenty

KEIRAN

I needed out. I thought I’d be okay knowing Lake was out and safe, but now I needed to see for myself that she was okay. She looked off during the hearing and not because she was concerned about me. I needed to know what caused this new fear I sensed.

I never wanted to be back here. Never thought I would be. In a way, Lake had screwed me. I cared for my future and no longer ran from my past. Consequently, I lost what it took to survive this place. Prison would be worse. I’d need to fight—possibly kill—to survive but I’d never get her out of my head. She was a permanent part of me.

My cell door opening provided me escape from my inner turmoil. “You have a visitor.”

I smiled at the thought of Lake fulfilling my need to see her. Only a few hours had passed since she’d been released. I gave Dash strict instructions not to let her leave Nevada for any reason, not that she could. I figured she’d be back to tell me how stupid I was for being okay with all this.

I made my way to the visitor room and tried to hide my disappointment at the sight of my brother sitting at the table instead. His hands were fisted, covering the bottom half of his face. His head was down so he didn’t see me approach.