“Wrong. He’ll never choose you. He’d die first.”
Her mouth curls into a horrible little smirk. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
Though it’s risky, I continue to push. “You had your shot,” I say. “What was it, a summer you had with him? That’s all? And now he’s got a plus-sized nobody that he can’t let go of, and it’s driving you crazy. You’re going to start a goddamn war just for a chance at what I have right now. A little desperate, isn’t it?”
Color floods her cheeks, and her eyes narrow into hateful little slits. “Shut her up.”
One of the goons behind me moves in to clamp his hand on my mouth. But his finger slips, putting him right inthe perfect biting range. I go for it, chomping down with my front teeth hard. He lets out a yelp and pulls it back.
“Fuckin’ hell—” He raises his hand, ready to hit me with the back of it. My stomach flips.
“No,” Ruth says. “Don’t touch her face. I need it recognizable.”
After a moment, she tells him, “Bring me a gun.”
This is it.
One of the other men obliges, yanking a mean-looking black pistol out of his waistband and handing it to Ruth. She takes it with total ease, checking the ammo and clicking the slide back into place. She’s done this before.
She raises the gun. From this distance, she can’t miss. My heart slams against my ribcage.
“Any last words, love?” she asks.
“Yeah. You’re boring.”
She snorts, shakes her head. Then she flicks off the safety, but before she can pull the trigger a voice rings out.
“Ruth!”
Ruth cocks her head in confusion and more than a little annoyance. She looks down at the man below who shouted her name.
“What the hell is it?” she rises, moving over to the office window overlooking the warehouse floor. “Nogoddamn way.”
The other goons move with her. I can only scooch a bit in my chair, but I move as much as I can, enough to see what everyone’s looking at—whoeveryone is looking at.
Down in the entryway to the warehouse is Peter Morozov.
I glance at Ruth. Her eyes flare. For the first time since this started, she looks genuinely shook.
“Ruth!” he calls out. “Get down here before you do anything stupid. We need to talk.”
I realize in that moment, for all of Ruth’s careful planning, everything just went sideways.
And I don’t know if it makes any difference for me.
CHAPTER 42
GABBY
Judging by the look on Ruth’s face, Peter was the last person she’d expected to walk into this filthy warehouse. Her whole body jerks at the sight of him, like someone yanked an invisible leash. For just a split second, panic flashes across her features for the first time since I arrived.
I crane my neck as far as the ropes will allow, enough to see him through the window. He’s alone. No bodyguards flanking him, no crew. Just Peter.
But I can see movement around the warehouse. More Irishmen. A lot of them—a dozen, maybe. Though it’s hard to count when they’re all in black and moving around in the shadows. It looks like Ruth called in half her damn army.
Peter stands alone, broad-shouldered, cold-eyed. Those are my eyes; I see it so clearly now. He’s totally fearless. His gaze sweeps the place, slow and surgical, until it lands on the office. He spots Ruth.
“Where is she?” he callsout to her.
