"That's the smartest thing I've heard you say," I told him, marching past him as I followed Forrest and Leif into the building.
He bared his teeth at me, but trailed along behind us, muttering something to himself that I ignored. I'd given him enough ammunition for one night. He didn't need any more of it.
Neither did I, if I was honest. Sparring with him was entertaining, but exhausting. Would that stop me? Hell no. As long as he was giving me shit, I'd give it back. Even if he wasn't I still might. He deserved it.
We passed an empty desk and headed to the elevators and up to the sixth floor. "How are we going to get in? We're not," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "breaking in, are we?"
"No, I have a plan," Forrest said. He told us all briefly.
As he spoke, my nerves rose. Could I do this? Would it be better to wait until the police had proof of what he'd done? If we did, we'd be waiting for someone else to get hurt, or to have their lives destroyed. That was something I couldn't live with.
"Are you sure this guy is guilty?" I asked, just in case. For a moment I considered walking away, but I held my ground.
"Robert Xavier Carmichael is guilty as fuck," Woody said. "One of my contacts hacked into his computer. You don't want to know what was on there." His mouth was set in a line, so flat his lips turned white. If the guy was right in front of him, he might rip his head off with his bare hands. Or tear off his balls and shove them down his throat. Or…something.
"Fuck is pretty guilty," I said. "In this context." He was right, I didn't want to know what was on there. My imagination washarsh enough. Fertile enough to fill in the blanks, and then some.
Whatever we did here tonight, I wouldn't regret it. If they said he deserved it, then he did. Even if it was Woody doing the speaking. We'd be making the world safer for other people.
I reminded myself he got it wrong with me, but Forrest and Leif were just as convinced. Just as in this as what he was. As ready to deal with this asshole as Woody was.
I said finally, "Let's do this."
We stepped out of the elevator at the sixth floor and headed for apartment number nine.
CHAPTER 22
SABLE
I pulled my hair out of the ponytail and patted it down.
"You look beautiful," Forrest assured me, kissing the back of my neck. This time he didn't end up with a mouthful of drywall dust. "You can do this."
I took a deep, steadying breath and stepped over to the door to apartment six-nine. Before I could psych myself out, I tapped on the door. It wasn't too late to run. I could make it to the elevator before?—
The door swung open.
Robert Carmichael looked me up and down, as if he wanted to eat me alive. If I had a creep radar, it went off the moment I saw him.
"Can I help you?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe like he was smooth. The only thing smooth about him was his greasy hair, brushed back off his face. It looked like an attempt at a mullet, a bad attempt at that. His lips were thin, humorless, almost disappearing in his wide face.
"I have a special delivery for you," I said, speaking the words we'd rehearsed a few minutes earlier.
"Oh yeah?" He looked me up and down again.
I forced myself to keep smiling until the other guys stepped into view.
Before Robert could close the door again, Woody barreled into him, forcing him back. Forrest and Leif followed.
Chewing my lip, I stayed back and watched.
"Bob," Forrest said smoothly. "They do call you Bob, don't they?" Woody had Bob pressed against the wall, his arm across the other man's throat.
"What the fuck?" Bob said, trying to catch a breath. "Yeah, they call me Bob. What do you want?"
"That's simple," Forrest said. "We know what kind of man you are, the things you've done to innocent people. We want you to stop."
"What are you talking about?" Bob spluttered. "I ain't done nothing wrong."
