My eyes flick up to his. “Rook and Ash?”

“Plus a baby.”

“Oh, shit.”

“And I need you because your friends, Bombshell—your friends are in a lot of trouble. And I don’t give a shit about this trial, what they did, why they did it, or how they’ll fix it. All I care about is my mission. I owe someone. This mission is how I pay them back.”

“Revenge?” I’m out of my mind scared to ask that, but I ask it anyway.

“I need you to help me get the girl and the baby, Veronica,” Bobby says, ignoring my question. “I came to town for Ashleigh and Kate.”

I drop the gun and cover my face with my hands.

“I need you to watch my back when I take them, you understand?”

I stare up at him for a few seconds. His face is dark. He comes off as menacing and intense. But even so, I was brought up in a family where making demands was met with more demands. I’m well-versed in the art of negotiations. “I can see what you get out of this. I’m your ace, right?”

He nods, but even in the dim light I can see him squint as he tries to figure out where I’m headed with this.

“So what do I get?”

He chuckles. “You get to participate. On my team.”

“Do I look some dumb blonde who’s so hard up for attention I’ll agree to anything just to get it?” I huff out a laugh. “Sorry, poison pufferfish. There’s got to be something in it for me.”

His hand goes to his chin as he ponders my answer. “You love that guy? Spencer Shrike?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You want something from me or not, Veronica? If so, cut the shit. I’m about to make an offer.”

He waits. Ball’s in my court. “Yeah,” I say after several silent seconds. “Yeah. I love him, OK? He’s the only guy I want.”

“Well, that trial? That testimony by your friend Rook they’re all hanging their futures on? It’s not gonna turn out the way they think. It’s fixed, Bombshell. They’re all gonna be charged with murder, obstruction, perjury, and grand larceny next week. And in the case of your blue-eyed friend? Human trafficking. I’ve seen the order. Your girlfriend is walking into a trap. She’s gonna be caught in lie after lie after lie as soon as she takes that stand.”

“What?” Holy f**k, my heart is beating so fast, I feel like I have to hold it in my chest with my hand.

“But I can make it go away, Bombshell. I can.” He smiles down at me. It’s the most diabolical smile I’ve ever seen. “I have latitude to…” He stops to laugh under his breath. And then he turns his head and gives me a sidelong glance that sends chills up my spine. “To take care of things in my own way. And if you help me tomorrow, I’ll take care of that trial and your dream relationship with Spencer Shrike can begin.”

I gulp. “And what if I don’t?”

“You will, Ronnie. Because if you don’t, your boyfriend dies.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

VERONICA

It’s three AM when he drops me off on the second floor of the condo building. I give him a curt, I’m-a-professional nod and walk out calmly. But as soon as the doors close behind me, I lean back against the wall and try my best not to hyperventilate.

How the f**k, Veronica? You are one stupid chick. Oh, a pretty gun. That’s exciting! Sure, I’ll be your backup, you mobster-slash-soldier who isn’t legitimate.

I breathe in and out for a few seconds. I get the panic attacks all the time at work, so I’m pretty good at getting it under control.

Whewwwww. I blow out a long breath and wait for my heart rate to calm down. Then my phone vibrates and I squeal and jump as I put my hand over my heart again. I check the text message. Go inside, Veronica. I need you fresh later.

I look up at the ceiling and yup, sure enough there are cameras up there, hidden in those little black dome things that Rook always points out to me where ever we go. She’s paranoid of cameras after her first reality show experience.

I smile and do a little salute. I don’t want him to see me so vulnerable. I hate being vulnerable. And you’d think a girl carrying a loaded FN Five-SeveN and two hundred rounds of those pointy cone-shaped cartridges packed inside ten extra mags would feel powerful.

But guns don’t make the girl. And I don’t feel powerful.

I push the key in the lock and open the condo door. It’s dark, so I fish around for the light switch. Find it. Flick it.

And… nothing. No lights.

Strong hands reach out and grab my arms, wrestling me backwards, slamming me into someone’s hard chest. “What the—”

My mouth is covered and the gag is tied behind my head. I bend over, ready to f**k this person up with some stealthy jujitsu, but my wrists are pulled together and bound behind my back before I can even attempt a move.

I scream, but it comes out muffled and then the hood is thrown over my head.

I’m dragged down the hall to the bedroom and this is when it all becomes real. I kick. I fling my feet wildly, but the man just picks me up and carries me to the bed, throwing me down hard enough so I bounce.

My legs kick out again as I try to scramble away, but those hands are on my ankles, not squeezing hard, but just enough to make me—

“Arggghhhh,” I moan. Oh shit, that f**king tickles. “Stop,” I try to say through my gag. But his hands go behind my bare knees and I lose it. I wiggle because I’m really getting tickled now. I wiggle so much I almost get away.