Page 158 of To All the Guys I Killed Before

I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, my clasped fingers dangling between my legs, waiting to see if he follows. “Well, first, you know the forums are crazy with conspiracy theories. Navarro’s death wasn’t an accident, Whitfield’s in witness protection, that kind of thing. One even says they were both murdered, and by the same person.”

Timms reaches for his phone again. The motion’s too abrupt for him to pull off casual, and I hide my smile.

“So after reading some of the evidence our fellow kings presented,” I continue, “it was on my mind when I visited my gun guy tonight⁠—”

“On Christmas Eve?” He glances up from his phone.

“No better place to be,” I say with a shrug. “But when my guy gets deep into his case of Old Style, he starts yapping like a little bitch.”

A smile crosses Timms’s lips. “Sounds like you need a new gun guy.”

“I’d be grateful for a recommendation.” I practically step on the end of his sentence. Joe would be thrilled to use Lester’s guy. “Anyway, he told me he overheard a couple of females running their mouths at the gun range. You know how it is, brother. They can’t help themselves.”

“Too fucking right.” He’s desperate to be the big man, utterly in control of the situation with his ankle propped on his knee. But his foot’s bouncing madly, his slide slapping against his heel.

“So my guy heard the blond one mention ‘cleaning house’ and the words ‘forum’ and ‘lawyer.’ Then she said that she was going to address the ‘golf club situation’ on Christmas Eve.”

Timms’s fidgeting dies. “‘Golf club situation’?”

“My guy had no idea what it all meant, but brother, I knew immediately.” Dammit, have I gone too hard on the “brother” stuff?

Apparently not.

“That’s because you’re awake, brother.” Timms nods approvingly and drops his foot to the ground, leaning forward like I am.

Gotcha, you maggot: the weakest person in the room subconsciously mimics the body language of the most powerful.

“I can’t say for sure, but between the shit I’ve been reading online and those breadcrumbs from my gun guy, well, I couldn’t not warn you.” I hold up my hand. “I know you can handle one little girl”—god, forgive me, baby—“but that bitch isn’t playing fair, coming for you in your home while you’re sleeping.” Joe is disgusted by the very thought of it. “That’s the only way they can get ahead. Dirty tricks and DEI and thinking they can lead us around by our dicks.”

Timms chortles and relaxes at hearing his own language tossed at him by a nonthreatening white man in jeans and a half-zip pullover.

“Shit. Why me?” the disingenuous fuck asks.

“Who knows?” Dr. Mohr would hold his gaze. Joe’s eyes drop. “A low-value female like that hates being reminded about the natural order of things. They want to see great men like you brought down.”

His fingers tighten on the gun. “Fucking whores.”

It’s definitely time for my gambit to keep her from being shot the instant she crosses the threshold.

Please let this work.

“What I want to know,” I say, “is how she got the jump on Whitfield. Navarro, I get. He didn’t treat his body as a temple, you know? Bitch probably found him drunk and nagged him to death.” Joe is pleased when Timms laughs at his little joke. “But Whitfield, that man was a tank. How’d she do it? Where’s his body?”

“Shit. Yeah.” His jaw clenches, then he adds with a forced laugh, “If it’s even true.”

“Right,” I say. “If it’s even true.”

We both fall silent, and Felicity whispers, “Warning’s delivered. You’re up, Emerald.”

Rue’s code name for tonight. Felicity just gave her the green light. Anxiety twists my stomach. If she gets hurt, if she gets ki⁠—

Timms snaps his head up when a creak comes from the kitchen. “What was that?”

That’s my girl. Be careful, baby. I love you.

“Stay here.” Timms points at me as he stalks out of the room, gun first. My entire being strains to follow him. Instead, I plant my feet in the center of the floor and strain to hear what’s happening in the next room.

At first, there’s silence. Then we hear everything. Timms’s furious shout. A body being slammed against the wall. Rue’s small cry of pain.