“I was hoping,” I mumble loud enough for him to hear.
“Tell me more about the stalker. Has she tried to fuck you yet?”
“No.” I glance over at the door to make sure it’s still closed. I feel like she would take offense at his words. “Don’t say shit like that, you know about her past,” I whisper harshly.
“Doesn’t mean she’s asexual now.” He shrugs.
“I just need to know why she was following me,” I deflect.
“Because she wants your johnson. Oh shit, her last name is Johnson. That’s funny,” Iron remarks, amusing himself. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe he’s actually as smart as he is. “Or she could want to kill you. I think those are pretty much the only reasons a chick would shadow a guy.” That is so much easier to believe.
“Someone might have hired her,” I offer. “You hear anything about that lawyer who was found dead a few blocks from the club?”
“Not really. He important?”
“I don’t know. Rex said he didn’t have any dealings with him, but it seems strange that he was found on our streets.”
“You think someone is trying to set us up and she’s involved?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
MAXINE
The hum of low voices draws me from the bed like a moth to a flame. I listen with my ear to the door, but it’s still hard to make out what they are saying. After several more minutes of not learning anything, I haul the door open, already searching the area.
Winger is on the far side of the room with a guy I’ve never seen before. I have just enough time to get a good look at him before my captor barks, “Close the door.” Proving I make horrible choices, I wait long enough to be considered defiant, then slam the door closed.
My fingers fumble over the knob of the door, looking for a lock. I don’t want the new stranger trying to come into the room, but there’s no lock to be found.
I press my ear against the door, but if anything, it’s harder to hear them now than before. I shift on my feet, realizing I need to pee. I should have said that instead of standing there looking like an idiot while I stared at them. Who knows how long it’s going to be now before I can get to the bathroom?
I grow too tired to stand, so I lumber over to the chair and sit down. My hand goes to the area over my stomach where the wound is. The slight pressure is enough to have me holding my breath. I suppose it’s a relief to know my insides are okay, mostly because it means I don’t need any further intervention and it should heal in due time. I can’t say I’m disappointed about my reproduction organs being intact, but it would have been nice to know that there was no chance of me ever becoming pregnant.
I think about lifting the shirt to see the damage, or at least if I’m closed up, but I stop short. I still don’t want to see it. I promise myself I’ll look tomorrow. I need to make sure it’s not infected or anything.
What I need to focus on is how the hell I’m going to get out of here, and how to get away when I do. Winger clearly knows I was following him, which leaves me at a major disadvantage. I have no idea what else he could know. My condo is compromised. He would have seen my address on my ID if he didn’t already know it anyway. It’s clear he has resources and a team of employees. I thought I was so fucking slick and no one was the wiser, but clearly, I was wrong.
I can almost respect how efficient he was. It also showed me how sloppy I am. If he was able to detect me so easily, it was only a matter of time before one of my other targets did the same. It also serves as a reminder to keep my fucking head in the game. The memory of the man standing behind me flashes through my mind, and his words echo in my head.
I’ll get paid either way.
Shit, I rub my hands over my face. Last night is a little fuzzy. I didn’t recall his threat until just now. He was sent to get me, or get rid of me, which means someone does know what I’ve been up to.
Fortunately, the list of people who could have hired him is rather small in the grand scheme of things. Now I have two goals—get the hell out of here, and find out who needs to die next.
CHAPTER15
WINGER
Maxine rips the door open within seconds of me running the drill. I knew it was coming, so I hadn’t even sunk the screw into the wood yet.
“What are you doing?” She looks from the drill in my hand to my eyes.
“Upgrading your security.” My answer surprises me a little. I don’t joke around often, and this certainly isn’t something to joke about. Maybe her barbed tongue is wearing off on me and I have a new language—sarcasm.
She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a glare some men might find intimidating. I think it’s kind of cute. Ah hell,where did that come from?
“You do realize holding me against my will is a crime, right?”
