“If you’re sure.” Madden sort of frowned, but his eyes were shiny with adventure.
“I am. I trust him.”
Madden pursed his lips for a second but nodded, and we got out of the car at the same time.
King was already hammering on the front door, and it was funny because except for shouting “police,” there was very little difference in his tactics from theirs, and it was exactly what I would have expected Jayce to do, minus King’s nice, rousing, “Open the fuck up!”
I stopped near where King was standing on the ground because there were no steps into the dubious building I supposed was a house. “So, what do we do if he doesn’t—”
Gunshots blasted loudly inside the trailer, and at nearly the same time it registered that the window beside the door was blown out as glass sparkled in the air. I was saved from getting shards in the face by Madden grabbing my suit jacket and turning me away. The hollow bangs sounded like a shotgun, not the sharper, crisper report of a handgun. While I was processing, King and Madden dragged me down, and all three of us hit the dirt. My gut ached from slamming into the ground, and I sucked air.
King scowled when a hole was blown in the door, and shoved us over a few feet, but he wasn’t overly rushed, like this wasn’t even anything dramatic. Madden goggled, but I rolled over him and tugged him to the side. King flicked his hand at us, and we scrambled along the front of the trailer. He stayed right where he was and took aim through the fresh new hole in the door and fired back, though I wasn’t sure if he was shooting just to see what would happen, or if he had sighted someone. There was another blast from inside as we rounded the corner of the trailer.
“King?” I called back.
He didn’t say anything, and I almost smacked myself on the forehead. Madden glared at me and shook his head, his brown eyes wild in alarm. Of course King couldn’t answer me. I peeked back around the corner and King had his hand on the doorknob. My heart almost stopped. What was he doing? At the same time, I heard a loud crack around the back of the trailer that sounded like a door slapping on metal. Madden had slinked along to look around the other corner, and he waved frantically at me to go back the other way and started to run toward me. I realized what was happening too slowly.
“He’s circling around,” I yelled to King as Madden nearly bowled me over.
King’s laughter from somewhere in the trailer wasn’t really very comforting. There was a loud noise, and a chair came hurtling through a previously unbroken window. It looked out of place where it landed in the goldenrod. Madden and I raced around the Maserati to use it as cover, and I groaned when there was a shotgun blast and thentinksall along my car—fucking buckshot. In my fucking paint job. And King’s goddamned door was still open, so it was probably also in my leather interior. I rose a few inches because I wanted to peek in and check the damage, but Madden only grabbed my shoulders and held me down with a wince as he shook his head at me.
King’s handgun rang louder than the shotgun had, somehow, or maybe I just knew the sound of him shooting by now and it stuck out more to me, but there were several shots fired, and then a low, pained grunt. One pathetic shriek was cut off quickly.
“Get that fucking shotgun, River,” King snarled.
I edged around the car, and Xander—Jason Bolton—lay on the ground. Those same pouty pink lips and bright blue eyes that had lured me into his trap to begin with had me staring at his face a second longer than I might have at someone else, and a cool breeze ruffled his glossy brown curls. Jason had both hands cupping his knee, and King had his ass on the window frame of the trailer and both of his hands on his gun, aiming it at Jason’s head. I had a grim sense of satisfaction at the scene. The last time we’d met, Jason was ready to ruin my life, and now the tables were turned. Madden was faster than I was and ran over to scoop up the shotgun.
I stood there glaring down at Jason. He rolled onto his back, shaded his eyes with one hand, and then laughed.
“What’s this? Why the fuck are you here? Derek came down hard on everyone who had anything to do with Mitchell. Your fucking photos are gone, just like you wanted.” He genuinely didn’t seem to get why I would want to follow up with some justice. His expression was easy and open, like a fucking sociopath. No guilt whatsoever was anywhere on his face.
Fury pelted through me at how he sounded like I was the asshole for not wanting to be blackmailed. “You prick. You spent a week luring me into a trap you set, and I’m pretty fucking sure you would have fucked me before you let me go if Jayce hadn’t showed up.”
Jason didn’t bother to answer, only turned all of his attention to his bleeding leg, which was fair.
Behind us a truck rumbled along the dirt road, and I continued to seethe.
“Kick his head in, River,” King called. “If anyone deserves to do it, you do.”
I tensed and took a step forward, but then the next thing I knew Jayce came around the rear of the Maserati. He headed for me at a dead run and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, backing me away from Jason with his eyes on King, who still held his gun steady. Instead of giving in to what I really wanted to do, which was exactly what King had suggested, I leaned against Jayce’s solid muscles and let him hold me.
“What the fuck?” Jayce roared, and everyone stilled, even Jason on the ground, who curled in on himself a little more.
“He shot at me first. It was self-defense.” King sort of slithered back into the trailer, and seconds later was walking down the front steps to join us. Slater took the shotgun from Madden, who had looked perfectly comfortable holding it, so I didn’t really think that was necessary. Slater didn’t seem too happy, either, judging by the sniffed-something-awful wrinkle on his nose.
Jayce pressed a kiss to my temple and glared at King as he walked out the front door to stand near us. “You should have never brought them out here. They’re not trained for this.”
“I agree” came a softer male voice from not too far off. Dallas strolled through the tall wildflowers to King’s side and offered his scruff-dusted cheek, which King smiled and kissed. I didn’t miss that Dallas had a gun in his hand too.
“I wanted to be here.” My gut clenched, and I took two steps out of Jayce’s embrace and hunkered down near Jason. No one was in a hurry to help him as he hugged his knee close and moaned. “Where the fuck is Dima?” I slapped him on the back of the head—hard.
Jason’s eyes flew wide and he bared his teeth at me. “Dima? That’s what this is about?”
“No, you fucked a lot of people over and you’re going to jail. We have enough evidence about your activities from the crate of paperwork that was dropped into the NGPD Lakeside police station early this morning,” Jayce said viciously.
Dallas leaned against King and cleared his throat. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll answer the questions quickly and thoroughly, Mr. Bolton.”
“I’m going to ask again when we get to the station,” Jayce said, “so you better tell the whole truth right up front because I’ll get it from you eventually. Tell River where this Dima is.”
