Her gaze narrowed. “How can you do that? Rumor has it someone inside your own gang is trying to take you down.” She got into his space. “I know about Marvis.”
“I’m handling it.”
“Then Grace would already be safe.” Peyton wanted out of this situation alive, but she also sensed that if she was too conciliatory, Cade’s paranoia would take over. It was a fine line to walk, but it was still there. “You don’t want to protect Grace. You want to use her and me to flush Lilia out so she’ll give you the evidence. But guess what? I protect what’s mine too, and I won’t be used as a tool to hurt her. So let’s work out a deal.”
He grabbed her arm. She nearly screamed when pain erupted from her wound as he yanked her toward him. Cade got into her face, his nose nearly touching hers. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right here?”
The anger in his eyes iced her to the core, but Peyton refused to look away. “Because I’m the best chance you have of finding what Lilia stole. And we both know that’s really what you want.”
He chuckled. His grip on her arm tightened. “And you’ll give it to me? Just like that?”
She nodded. “In exchange for your promise that you won’t hurt Grace, Lilia, or anyone else I care about.”
It was a calculated risk. She had no intention of actually following through, but Cade couldn’t know that. Otherwise, he might shoot them right here and be done with it.
His fingers pressed into her flesh, practically rubbing against the bone. She held his gaze, not letting an ounce of pain or fear flicker across her expression. As a poker player, Cade was used to reading other people’s bluffs. If this was going to work, she had to sell it. Not with words. With confidence.
He countered her silent challenge with his own, whipping out his gun and holding it to her throat. “If you’re lying to me, I will kill you.”
“I know.”
Ricky edged forward. “Easy, boss. They’re cops, and we’ve got enough problems to deal with.”
Cade’s gaze never flickered to his subordinate. Instead, he pushed Peyton away, finally releasing her arm. Before she could find her footing, his hand collided with her cheekbone. Stars exploded in her vision. She collapsed to the ground in a bone-jarring heap that ripped a scream from her throat.
Above her, barely visible through the haze of pain, Cade smirked. Then he waved a hand. “Load up!”
Movement out of the corner of her eye preceded a clatter against the asphalt. Her cell phone and guns. Seconds later, the motorcycle engines fired. Peyton could barely hear them through the dull roaring of pain in her ears. Dawson’s face swam in front of her. She tried to speak, to explain her side was bleeding badly, but the words wouldn’t come. The stars in her vision grew bigger, darker.
And as she slipped into the darkness, all she could think was that she’d done it.
She’d protected Dawson.
It worked. He’s safe.
NINETEEN
Dawson prowled the emergency room waiting area. His stomach, already sour with worry and fear, turned at the stench of antiseptic and bleach. After passing out in the alley, Peyton had come to in the ambulance, but she’d quickly been whisked away the moment they arrived at the emergency room. Security hadn’t allowed him past the swinging doors, not even after he flashed his badge. Austin wasn’t his jurisdiction.
An hour had gone by. Still nothing.
Dawson couldn’t stay still. He marched to the nurse's station. “Peyton Hughes. How is she?”
“Sir, I’ve already told you, when there’s news, the doctor will come and update you.” The nurse’s glare was sharp enough to cut to the bone. “If you approach this desk one more time, I'll have security escort you to the parking lot. Are we clear?”
He wanted to scream. Instead, he gave her a sharp nod, not trusting himself to say anything that wouldn’t get him thrown out. As he turned away from the nurses’ station, the main doors to the hospital slid open. Jax strolled in. Some of the emotional turmoil rolling through Dawson settled at the sight of his childhood friend.
“How is she?” Jax asked, meeting Dawson near an empty group of chairs.
“I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything.” His hands balled into fists. “Cade’s goons chased us, and as we were trying to get away, Peyton fell. She must’ve stabbed herself somehow. She told me she was fine, but she wasn’t. Then Cade ambushed us, and it turns out she was bleeding the entire time.”
Those harrowing moments in the alley kept playing on a loop he couldn’t stop. Cade, putting his hands on her. The gun at her throat. The slap. Dawson had never felt such rage in his entire life. He hadn’t known it was possible. And then…when Peyton passed out…and he’d opened her jacket and saw the blood…
The fear had nearly undone him.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed into a plastic chair. Dawson hung his head in his hands. “Cade was going to kill us. You could feel it, you know? But Peyton talked to him, made some kind of deal, and he let us go.”
“What kind of deal?”
