Page 35 of Straight Shooter

He narrowed his stare. “You said you spotted him on your floor.”

“Yeah.”

“So you’d already left your room. Where were you headed?”

She puckered her lips to stall, but no lie came to mind. Dammit.

“Visiting a friend, maybe?” The cockiness in his voice grated on her nerves.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I’m not a genius or anything⁠—”

“Duly noted,” she said, not hiding her smirk.

“But that tells me you’re still working this job on Moretti.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “I already told you, I’m done. I’m ready to go home.” Almost. If he’d get the hell off her back so she could complete the last, most important piece of the task.

“C’mon, Priss. I can’t help you if you won’t help me. I could let you walk out that door right now,” he said, gesturing at the bright-yellow wood. “But odds are Beanie will find you the minute you hit the streets. Because let’s be honest—Moretti’s resources are almost as good as mine, and I already know you planned to meet Max Burton.”

She fought to keep her face impassive.

Shit.

She couldn’t lie and she couldn’t weasel her way out of the question. Doing so wouldn’t help. Not when he already knew so much. She bounced her shoulders. “Am I supposed to be impressed? I mean, I guess that’s pretty good you figured it out, but you’re right, definitely not genius material.” The jab didn’t wipe away his self-satisfied smirk.

“All I need from you, Priss, is to tell me who hired Max. Someone is pulling his strings—who is it?”

“I don’t know. He never told me that. The fewer details we share about a job, the better. For this reason exactly,” she said, gesturing in the air between them.

He tugged on his earlobe and nodded. “Fine. That’s probably true. But there’s one thing you can’t cover up.”

She lifted an eyebrow.

“What were you hired to take?”

She let her shoulders fall an inch. God, this was getting tiring.

“Peyton, I can give you immunity. You just need to trust me.”

She pierced the tip of her tongue with her teeth. “Max would kill me.”

“He won’t know.”

She pushed herself off the stool. “It’s time for me to leave. Thanks for hanging around my hotel when you did, but⁠—”

He caught her arm. “You can’t leave. Moretti’s men are pounding the streets looking for you. What do you think they’ll do when they find you? No job is that important, Peyton.” His brow locked in a formidable scowl and a shadow crossed his face.

She didn’t pull her arm out of his reach, mostly because the contact grounded her. A memory of Beanie’s scummy hands on her body ripped through her mind. She forced it away and focused on her breath to forget the image. But on its heels came the thought of impending solitude. God, she was sick of being alone. Even when she worked with a partner like Max, she was still alone—because they worked independently. Even when she was with Dani, she was still alone—because Dani had found something better.

Summoning all the attitude she could muster so her resolve wouldn’t instantly melt, she jutted out her hip and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “What are you suggesting, Rhett? That I stay here so you can babysit me? Leave my friend and associate out to dry while you land your case? I can’t do that. I’m not a backstabber, so if you have a viable solution, let’s hear it.”

The lines of his face didn’t soften. “I know you’re in a tough spot. I get that. You think Milo wasn’t three years ago when I gave him a way out?”

Her chest deflated. “That’s what you’re trying to do? Get me to walk away?”

He rolled his fingers into a fist. “No. But there’s a damn good opportunity sitting in front of you. Help me land Moretti and I’ll get you out.”