“Uh,” Miller croaked. “A little, maybe. I mean, you didn’t give me much choice about letting you in. And then you…took the gun off me.”
Julian turned his fixed stare onto me again. “I came to offer my help,” he said softly. “I thought maybe I could help you out with this case you’re working on.” He reached for his pocket.
“Don’t!” I snapped.
“You should see a therapist about that anxiety,” Julian said, but he stopped moving. “I have something for you. That’s all. A present.”
“I’ve seen your presents, Julian. Not sure I want one of my own.”
With a huff of laughter, he said: “Nobodyeverwants my presents.”
The way he said it, I couldn’t tell if he meantpresentsorpresence. Either way, he would have been right.
“Slowly,” I said, nodding at his pocket.
He rolled his eyes, actually rolled them likeIwas the one at fault. His fingers inched into his pocket and withdrew again. Like a Vegas magician, he flicked the object into his fingertips. “Ta-dahhh,” he chanted. “It’s a USB, Jack. That’s all.” He tossed it to me across the room, but I let it fall to the floor a few feet short of me without grabbing for it. I knew better than to let Julian Castellani distract me.
He gave an approving smile at my unwavering aim. “Well, that’s it,” he said, spreading his arms. “Unless you’re going to offer me a drink? Some lunch? Miller Beaumont said you were at Cali Corn Grill.” He paused. “Ilike Cali Corn Grill.”
“Get out,” I said.
He clenched his teeth. “Fine,” he said. “Fine, fine, fine.” He walked slowly across the room toward the door, which I’d left open for him, and I let him have a wide berth. In the doorway, he stopped, turned, and let his eyes fall on Miller. “I’ll be seeing you,” he said in a little sing-song voice. “I’ll be seeing you, Miller Beaumont.”
I lost it.
I lost it so hard that I broke every rule I had about keeping a low profile in the apartment complex, and I threw myself out the door at Julian, barreling him across the short hallway, and slamming him into my neighbor’s door.
The door shuddered but held, and I dragged Julian backward, my arm around his neck and my gun to his head. I was yelling at him, barely making sense,don’t you ever EVER threaten him again, but all I could hear was Miller shouting behind me and Julian laughing.
Laughing.
My neighbor’s door flew open and the noise that I was making was joined by a torrent of angry Spanish, until she saw my gun, and slammed her door shut again.
Miller was pulling me, trying to get me off of Julian, and other people in the complex were starting to come out now, staring.
Filming.
But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about my face being all over the internet or even the six o’clock news right then. All I cared about was scaring Julian Castellani enough that he would never come back to my door, never put those cold dead eyes on Miller again, never try to leave me a present like he’d left for his previous crushes over the years.
“Okay,” I heard him croaking at last. “Okay, Jack, okay.”
I released his throat. My neighbor wasn’t the kind to call the cops, but there were some in the complex who might have already.
And I’d just been filmed by at least one person holding a gun to the head of Ciro Castellani’s favorite son.
Julian had staggered down the stairs and was backing away. He laughed again, but his voice was full of pity when he said, “Oh, Jack, you poor soul. It’s the real thing, isn’t it? I wish it could work out for you…but we both know it won’t.”
I began to raise my gun again, but Miller grabbed me and dragged me back into the apartment before I could get Julian in my sights.
“JJ,” Miller gasped, yanking me back into the apartment. “What in thehell—”
“Get your keys,” I told him. His convertible wasn’t exactly an undercover ride, but the Pinto was no use. It couldn’t get above sixty on a good day, and the pounding I’d given it the other night to get out to the Valley had almost killed it.
If we were going to outrun the cops—or Julian Castellani, for that matter—we needed horsepower.
I was already waist-deep in the closet, tugging out my old go-bag that I’d forgotten about until that moment, and a spare case of guns. Miller watched me with wide, dark eyes, his mouth open. “Keys?” I snapped at him.
He held them up in one shaky hand, and they tinkled in the air.
