Page 108

The issue, of course, is that a lot of the time, they want to take their pursuers down with them.

And I’m not going anywhere.

I watch as he gets on a random two-lane highway, zigzagging through a few smaller towns as he heads toward Ontario. I don’t want him to get to a city because that means witnesses. Street cameras. Cops.

Because Garth isn’t going to prison. Not on my watch. No, this is going to end today. One way or another.

I speed up until I’m right on his ass and bump his back bumper. The car jolts a little but he just keeps going. Time is running out for me to take care of him without an audience.

I step on the gas and pull up alongside him, then I yank the wheel to the right hard. It smashes against the driver’s side of his car and the vehicle goes onto the shoulder, shakes a little, and then winds up in a ditch. I slam on the brakes, stopping on the shoulder, and get out of my SUV. I walk to the edge of the road and look down.

Garth has gotten out of his car and is hoofing it toward a line of trees, so I make my way down the incline and follow. He looks over his shoulder, like he’s trying to decide what to do next, and then abruptly stops. He turns to me, eyes gleaming, breathing hard.

“Now what?” he asks. “You going to kick my ass?”

“What do you think?” I ask, stopping a couple of feet in front of him.

“I taught you everything you know.”

“Not hardly.”

The United States Marines taught me things he’s never even dreamed of.

Four years in the Middle East taught me things I wish I didn’t know. Men I killed without a backward glance. He has no idea what I know.

Put those things together with my professional fighting experience, he’s going to wish I didn’t know them either.

“She ruined my life,” he says, like that’s supposed to change my opinion.

“You were running a fucking rape ring!” I say, shaking my head. “How is she the villain here?”

“No one was getting hurt! The women were all in consensual, committed relationships. The fact that we had sex with them while they were sleeping doesn’t change anything. I loved Marissa. That’s why I figured out a way to get what I needed from her without stressing her out.”

“Without…” I can’t wrap my head around the bullshit he’s spewing. “Jesus, do you even hear yourself?”

“I had a good thing going—and she fucking destroyed it. Not just the academy, but my life! The cancer treatments were going to bankrupt us. I used that money to take care of her! Why don’t you understand that?”

“Wait—the Assault Academy was your idea?” I stare at him.

He scowls. “Me and three others. And it took off. I was able to take care of Marissa, get her every treatment available, and then at the end, she would have had private nurses, the best drugs, so she wouldn’t have to suffer. Instead, that Shawna bitch forced me to shut it down and I lost everything. Thank God for Mikey.”

“Who the fuck is Mikey?” I’m more curious than anything else.

“Director of the FBI—Michael Marchmont. We went to college together. Been friends for decades.”

Luna really uncovered quite the can of worms. No wonder she was worried. And I foolishly minimized the danger.

Well, that ends now.

“He can’t protect you this time,” is all I say.

Garth doesn’t say anything.

And then, to my surprise, he kicks off his shoes and holds up his fists, in a fighter’s stance.

I don’t know if he actually believes he can take me or if he’s just posturing. Before I can decide, his leg comes out and he kicks me. Hard. Right in the gut. It hurts, because back in the day his kick was lethal, but today I just smile.

Because he’s fifteen years beyond “back in the day.”