“I have it,” I mumble at the same time as Colby shouts with excitement.
“The site is still open!”
And then light blinds us.
“Shit,” I hiss. “Take pictures of everything! We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“On it.”
The second he’s done with one paper, I put it back in the drawer, then the next, and the next.
He’s taking pictures of the computer screen when I hear it, a creak of the floorboards, and I grip Colby’s shoulder.
Why can’t anything ever go to fucking plan?
As soon as he takes the last picture, I grab his phone and stuff it in my shoe, then grab the laptop and stand with it in my hands. If nothing else, I bet I can use this as a shield or a bargaining chip.
“This has to be my birthday.” Carl Brent’s voice sounds even slimier than normal as he walks in, pointing a gun at me. “I’m gonna be a goddamn hero to this city after this,” he mutters. His upper lip curls into a feral snarl when he sees Colby. “You just won’t go the fuck away, huh?”
I squeeze his forearm, and hope he understands it’s a warning.
I look down and see my gun, trying to think of any way at all that I can reach it, point, and shoot before Brent kills Colby.
“Nah, ah, ah,” Brent singsongs, then kicks the door closed behind him. “Why don’t you shove that gun off the desk, Colby? Before I kill you.”
“You’re going to kill us anyway, though, aren’t you?” Colby asks, leading with his snark again.
“Do it,” I mutter.
I’m not going to let Colby die here. I won’t let him be another victim of this asshole. I don’t care what I have to do but he’s getting out of herealive.
Colby doesn’t seem convinced, but he keeps the promise he made to me, and reaches in front of me to push my gun over the desk.
“Very smart,” Brent praises Colby, and the skin of his face, wrinkled and full of spots from his fake tan, stretches almost unnaturally with his condescending smile. “I’m going to mess with the front door after I kill you, and then I’m going to call the cops. Poor Colby Major was Eian Dempsey’s hostage while they were breaking into my house.”
The pout is so fucking theatrical.
“This isn’t a fucking movie,” I snarl. “Stop telling us yourshitty evil plan. You know it won’t look good, you know people will wonder why Colby was here, so let him go.”
“No.”
Brent shows no hesitation there. He thinks he’s unbeatable, and fucking hell, he might be.
“We got to Lucian,” I tell him, hoping to buy more time to... fuck, I don’t know, come up with an exit plan for Colby. “He’s dead, and we’re not the only ones who know. All the other heads know about you, and if I die, they’re going to come for you. They already spent all day upstate.” I see that hits home. Good. The angrier I can get him, the more control we’ll have. “How are you going to supply your clients now?”
“And how are you going to pay your hacker friend?” Colby asks. I want to sigh in relief because he caught on to what I’m doing. Still, he should be making himself scarce, not being stupidly brave.
“How are you going to get out of this now that every criminal in this city knows what you’re doing?”
My question seems to push him over the edge. His face screws up in anger and he takes one step closer as he points his gun at me.
At least it’s at me.
At least I texted Harrison.
At least Rory, Mac, Duffy, and Blake are nearby. The second they hear a shot they’ll know something is up.
Colby will survive this.
