“I don’t think you meant to kill her,” Jane said quietly as she stroked her friend’s hair with her free hand. “I think you probably would have let us go.”
“I—I mean… I would have.” Williams sucked in a breath and let it out in ragged gasps, swearing and praying and swearing some more before he let out a whoop of laughter. “Sucker. You’re all going to die. You, her—ding, dong, the witch is dead. Even that loser boyfriend of hers in the back. This is his house, you know. I meant to kill you all. I’m only sorry she’s gone too quickly. I’d have liked to have hooked up once before she died.”
Jane scooted back from Sullivan, her jeans covered in blood, and pulled the curtain she’d been using to stem the blood flow with her. “She used to tell me all the time you were her best friend.”
“Yeah, well, I guess she wasn’t too bright, was she?” Yet for all Williams kept trying to act like he didn’t care, Jane saw the loss register. He kept staring at Sullivan, looking at her with eyes that cared.
Jane sat, trying to appear lost, her mind on how long it would take her to throw the bloodied curtain at Williams’ face before attacking him.Come on. Come closer. Look at her.
But Williams wouldn’t. She needed something to distract him, damn it.
A pane of glass broke behind him. He turned. Fired.
Jane was on him. She slung the wet curtain around his face then knocked the gun from his hand and kicked it away.
“You’re good. Take him out,” Raine said. “We’re safe.”
Jane focused on Williams. The traitor.
She drove him to the ground.
Behind her, Raine called for help on her phone and rushed toward Sullivan. A man joined her, but Jane didn’t look up from her opponent, letting the rage flow as she got to her feet.
With a feral grin, she let Williams rise. He lunged for her, tearing at the blood-drenched fabric swaddling his head.
Jane broke both his wrists and popped his knee with a kick.
He shrieked and folded like a battered chair as her leg sweep took him down and kept him down.
“That’s what you get for being a traitor and a fool.” She tied him up using a set of flex cuffs Raine tossed to her.
“The others?” Jane asked, breathing hard. She itched to break the guy’s neck. “Who’s your friend?”
The man next to Jane kept talking to Sullivan—toJenn—in a low, calming voice, holding his sweater against her belly.
“This is Dash, Jenn’s boyfriend,” Raine said by way of introduction.
Dash didn’t look away. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. I just love beating up scum,” Jane growled and shoved Williams away from her.
“Nice job.” Raine nodded with approval as she studied the creep.
They listened to him whine and cry some more before Jane went in search of her phone and weapons, squirreled away on a table in the other room.
“So what happened?” Jane asked as they heard sirens closing in.
“I called them as soon as I saw we had more company. I took out the goons outside at the end of the driveway, away from the house.” Goons—just like Jane had mentally described the Mazzuca stooges. Great minds thought alike. “But the head goon didn’t make it.” Raine frowned. “One of those morons shot him by mistake. I left him tied up and bleeding out. I doubt he’ll live.”
“Too bad,” said Dash as he glanced up, rage in his eyes. “Because I’d like to kill him all over again. He trashed my place, beat me up, and threatened Jenn with revolting things.”
Jane noted the black eyes, swollen mouth, and the way he cradled his side. He probably had bruised or busted ribs.
“Ambulance is on its way,” Raine reminded her.
Jane approved of Dash. He hadn’t crumbled in the face of adversity and continued to care for Sull—Jenn.This will take some getting used to.
A glance at her phone showed dozens of new messages.
