Page 36 of Rafe’s Future

“I already told you, I’m not⁠—”

“Talking,” she cut off his repeated words. “Yeah, you said that already. And that’s okay, because I can talk enough for us both. How about we start with what I already know, yeah?”

He looked away with a grunt. “You don’t know shit.”

“Actually, that’s not true.” Lena rested her elbows onto the table. Looking him square in the eyes, she kept her voice calm as she spoke. “I know you were hired to kill me, along with Rafe Owens, Caleb Calhoun, and Sabrina Sanchez.”

“Who?”

You know damn well who.

“I don’t blame you for being scared. Alexei Kozlova is a terrifying man.”

Her empathetic stare became laser-focused as she studied him closely for the slightest reaction. But the professional killer didn’t so much as blink at the sound of Kozlova’s name.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” He feigned ignorance.

Lena kept her cool as she sat back in her chair with a grin. “Between us, if I were in that chair, I wouldn’t be so quick to talk, either. Better to get thrown into a hole somewhere to be forgotten, am I right?” She chuckled. “Spending the rest of your life in solitary for treason, murder, and attempted murder has to be better than living every second of every day wondering when Kozlova will finally make his move.”

Another low grunt of denial was his only response, so she took that as a sign to keep going.

“And it is a matter of when, not if.” She crossed a leg over one knee. “But you already know that, right? I mean, when it comes to men like Kozlova, there really is no ‘if’. Not when he has a reputation to uphold. And let’s face it, the smarmy bastard hasn’t survived underground all this time without the control of those who fear him.”

“I already told you, you’re wasting your time.”

“Funny thing about time.” Lena jumped topics once more. “Take you for example. A few short hours ago, you were convinced that my partner and I would be dead by now, and you’d be long gone. Yet, here we are. Rafe and I are still very much alive and you’re . . . well.” A breathy chuckle shook her shoulders.

“Screw you.”

Finally, a show of honest emotion.

“You’re a smart man,” Lena continued. “I’m sure you get my point.”

“You have a point?”

Her mouth spread into a toothy laugh. “You’re funny. That’s good. You’ll need to hold onto that sense of humor. It can make all the difference during those first few weeks of being locked up, all alone.”

Sounding bored, the man before her muttered a disinterested, “If you’re going to kill me, just do it, already.”

Lena rose to her feet, walking casually around the room as she kept on with her “nice guy” persona.

“Now, why would I kill you?” She stopped inches from where he was sitting. “We’re not after you. Your boss is the one we want.” Resting a hip against the table’s edge, Lena attempted to appeal to his primal need for survival. “You give him up; we protect you. It’s that simple.”

A sarcastic huff blew out in her direction, followed by the man’s mumbled, “It’s never that simple.”

She leaned to one side, pressing a palm against the top of the table for balance. With a tilt of her head, she brought her face directly in front of his.

“We have your burner. Our people have already broken into its OS. My name’s in there, along with Owens’, Calhoun’s, and Sanchez’s. And I’m willing to bet, once we look deeper, we’ll also be able to connect you to the shooting of Alice Garrison.” Lena took a breath and waited. “That’s the name of the woman you shot during that reckless drive-by the other day. By the way, did you know . . .” Lena forced another fake laugh. “What am I saying? Of course, you don’t. Hardly anyone does.”

“What are you rambling about now?”

“Alice Garrison’s maiden name.” Her tone grew serious. “It’s Owens, by the way.”

Aaaand there it is.

The tell so slight, it was nearly non-existent. A hint of a twitch at the corner of one of the man’s eyes.

Gotcha.