The only word she could think of.
The one word that mattered.
Luckily, she’d silenced her phone’s alerts while having dinner with Martin. She’d wanted no interruptions, no distractions when she ended things between them. Now, she was able to send the text without the telltale woosh. And a few more quick taps on the screen meant she was sharing her location.
Her lungs felt like they were coated in cement. But she forced herself to inhale. To oxygenate her body and brain just in case she got the chance to run.
“You shouldn’t have come back here,” she whispered. “The Black Knights told you what would happen if you did.”
The gun pressed harder into her ribs, making them ache. But Sabrina refused to flinch.
“Is this about what I did to Hummer?” Sabrina was pleased to hear that her voice sounded steady, conversational even. She was getting good at keeping her cool in life-threatening situations, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or if it simply meant her trauma response had been blunted by, yeah, you guessed it, too much trauma. “I thought you said grudges give you wrinkles.”
“I don’t give a shit about Mark Kesslar,” Black Widow hissed. “I give a shit about me. That’s why I’m here.”
The pressure of the gun vanished from Sabrina’s side. It was replaced by the cold, metallic snap of something slamming around her wrist.
She blinked in astonishment. Black Widow had…handcuffed them together? Why on earth?
“Get up,” the woman snarled, her eyes darting restlessly around the park. “We’re going for a walk.”
40
Black Knights Inc.
Hew didn’t realize he’d nodded off until someone cleared their throat.
His eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep, and the world tilted a little before he got his bearings.
Sleep had always been hit or miss for him. But the last two weeks had been a lot more misses than hits. And when he did manage to catch some Z’s, he still felt groggy and unrefreshed upon waking.
A quick squint toward the tall, leaded glass windows told him the sun had bid this side of the world adieu for the day. Darkness pressed against the windowpanes. And, in the distance, the Chicago skyline glowed white and gold.
He stretched and yawned wide enough to make his jaw crack. Then, he searched for the source of the noise that had pulled him from sleep and found Boss sitting on the love seat across the way.
The man’s broad shoulders filled the piece of furniture like a king sitting on a throne. His expression was anything but magnanimous, however.
A cocked ear told Hew the shop was quiet. And empty. Except for…Boss.
“Where is everyone?” Hew swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up to run a weary hand through his hair.
“Gone home for the day,” Boss said evasively. “And Fish and Eliza are at Red Delilah’s. He’s been doing his best to keep her busy so she won’t worry so much about the possibility of her dad being Bishop.”
“Right.” Hew nodded. Then, he tilted his head. “You workin’ late?”
“Nope.” Boss bent to scratch Peanut’s cheek. The cat sat between his legs, yellow eyes half-closed in feline ecstasy at the attention. “Waited until everyone left so I could tell you privately that you’re an idiot.”
“Sorry?” Hew blinked and shook his head.
“You’re right about that.” Boss dipped his big chin. “Sorriest sonofabitch I’ve seen in quite some time.”
Hew carefully set the dragon saga back on the coffee table.
Boss wasn’t the type to run a man down just for the hell of it. So if Boss was calling you out, it was because he thought you needed to hear it.
“Mind elaboratin’?” Hew made a rolling hand motion.
“Glad you asked.” Boss leaned back, the picture of composure, ankle crossed neatly over one knee. Peanut meowed his displeasure at the withdrawal of Boss’s affection, but quickly flopped onto his side to satisfy himself with cleaning his whiskers. “You’re in here sleeping like a baby and reading a damn dragon book”—Boss flicked a blunt finger at the gold-embossed cover on the table—“when the woman you love is out with another man.”
