He grabbed the handle and hesitated, knuckles bleaching. His mouth twisted. “If I pull this out, I’m gonna—”
“Bleed,” I finished. “That’s kind of the idea.”
His jaw clenched. “You need to calm down and listen to me.”
“Pretty sure I’ve had my fill of men telling me to ‘calm down.’” I tilted my head.
He sucked in air through his teeth, yanked the knife free, and slapped his hand over the wound, a wet sheen spreading under his fingers. The knife clattered to the concrete beside him. I didn’t look away from his face as I stepped around it and nudged it back to me with the toe of my boot.
Metal rasped against pavement. A little shiver went through me at the sound.
Bliss.
“Dany,” he tried again, voice tight. “I’m undercover. I had to play along. I couldn’t tell you. If my cover’s blown, this whole thing—”
“You’re really sticking with that?” I bent, scooped the knife up, and wiped it on my thigh, leaving a fat, dark streak across the fishnet. “You’re standing in a graveyard of your coworkers, your arm is leaking like a busted pipe, and you still think I’m buying ‘undercover cop?’”
“I work for the St. Louis—”
My foot connected with his chin in a fit of rage. I was so fucking tired of his bullshit.
He cried out, and I waited not so patiently for him to shut the fuck up so I could scream at him some more. That moment never came though because he did the one thing I should have expected, but didn’t.
Joe grabbed the gun he’d tried to hide, fingers slick on the grip with trembling hands, and stood as he pointed it right between my eyes.
Disgust and pure, volatile hatred soured my tongue.
Fine. Have it your way then,I sneered inside.
“Go ahead,” I said aloud and stepped with purpose toward him. His finger tightened on the trigger. “You were ready to pull the trigger on whoever killed your men. It was me, Joe. So do it.”
“Dany, I’m warning you,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“My, my,” came a low rumble from the shadows. “Do you hear that, Dany? A warning.” Luci stepped into full view under the moonlight and looked like the goddamn king of midnight.
Joe swung the gun in Luci’s direction. “Who the fuck are you?”
I scoffed, “Don’t worry. You’ll be well acquainted soon.”
Fear morphed into impatience on Joe’s face. We were getting to the good part: when a narcissist shows his true colors.
“You know what, fuck this,” Joe spat.
“Don’t, Luci,” I murmured under my breath as Joe rushed me.
His hand wrapped around my throat as he shoved me against a shipping container. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.
Like father, like son.
“Is this what you do to women, Joe?” I rasped out.
He rolled his eyes so hard I wanted to cut them out. “God, listen to yourself. I gave you more than you deserved. You were a fuckingstripperin a shitty barwith a hero complex and a trauma kink. I threw you a bone. Gave you a nice story, a warm bed, someone to cry on when your nightmares got too loud.”
Each word carried a sort of mocking sarcasm that set my blood on fire.
Joe pointed his gun to my forehead and looked me dead in the eyes.
“Don’t,” I rasped, and by his smile I could tell he thought that I was speaking to him. Pleading, even. But I wasn’t. I was talking to the Devil ready to tear his throat out from behind for laying hands on me. I locked gazes with Lucifer and the fiery pits of hell were burning in his eyes.
