Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Ramirez rose to his full height and turned, but kept his weapon on Brianne’s shoulder, aimed at her head. “Welcome home, Detective.”
Jake’s aim didn’t falter, either. “Drop the gun.”
“As if you’re in any position to be giving orders.” A smirk pasted on his face, Louis cocked his weapon.
The noise echoed loudly in the room and even louder in Jake’s head. At the offending sound, the blood drained out of Brianne’s face. Her green eyes were wide, yet, at a glance, he saw the hidden strength he’d always known she possessed.
Hang in there. He tried to communicate silent support and a promise. He’d gotten her into this. He’d get her out. His heart rose in his chest, making his throat as raw as his emotions. He couldn’t lose her.
And he wouldn’t, Jake thought, immediately shifting his stare back to Ramirez.
“This is between us. Leave her out of it.”
“He sent me flowers, remember, Jake? I think that makes me part of things,” Brianne said.
Jake muttered a curse and started to sweat. He didn’t know what she was up to, but her odds of escaping safely rose only if she kept her mouth shut. He didn’t want her trying to elicit a confession or making herself even more expendable in Ramirez’s eyes. At this point, they’d have Ramirez on a good number of charges. Jake couldn’t give a damn about the drugs. All he wanted was an easy shot that didn’t put Brianne at risk of taking a bullet at the same time.
“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. Did you like them? It galls me to admit it, but you’ve got taste, Lowell. I wanted a bite for myself.” He ran the butt of the gun down Brianne’s cheek, and she stiffened in her seat. “It’s a pity I’m going to have to miss out. Screwing her would have been screwing you at the same time.” Ramirez laughed, the chilling sound a knife in Jake’s gut.
Brianne shuddered with a revulsion she couldn’t hide.
“Come on, Louis,” Jake said. “If you kill another cop, you won’t walk on a technicality this time.” And if he killed Brianne, Jake would make sure he took Ramirez out before going down himself.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ramirez said.
Brianne glanced at Jake and silently implored him not to do something rash. She knew he longed for a deadly shot at Ramirez. One that would end things for good. She swallowed over the lump in her throat and refused to look down at her torn shirt.
But she knew, as if she could read his mind, that he blamed himself for her situation. He believed she sat in this chair with Ramirez holding a gun to her head because Jake had cuffed her and disappeared.
She couldn’t tell him now and might never get the chance, but she forgave him. Whether or not he loved her the way she loved him—and the jury was still out on that one since he’d had no reaction to her declaration earlier—she wouldn’t hold it against him. She understood that she’d cornered him until he had no choice but to protect her from herself.
He met her gaze again, and, in those brief moments, Brianne felt an unspoken shift in their relationship. An acknowledgment of emotion that would have to be dealt with—if they got out of this alive.
She gripped the seat of the chair with one hand; the other one was still cuffed to the chair and sore from being held back in an unnatural position. But Ramirez wasn’t allowing her any leeway.
“What about the guard you decked downstairs?” Jake asked, and Brianne realized Jake was trying to keep Ramirez talking and not shooting.
Ramirez shrugged as if the injured man were of no consequence. “How can anyone explain what a burned-out cop will do when he loses it?” he asked.
“You think the cops’ll blame me?”
Brianne remembered her self-defense class and gauged the angle from the bottom of her foot to Ramirez’s groin, but she still didn’t have a good target. And neither did Jake. Ramirez stood too close, partially blocking Brianne and definitely able to get a round off if Jake fired first. She wanted to cry in frustration.
“Ask me if I care,” Ramirez said. “As long as they can’t trace me to this apartment I’m fine.”
And he wore clear rubber gloves to make sure he got away clean, Brianne noticed. She looked around for a way out and saw Norton pacing by Jake’s feet. The dog had been agitated since Ramirez’s arrival, but he was no threat and the man obviously knew it because he’d left Norton unharmed. Thank God. But threat or not, the dog was definitely a potential distraction.
She tried to calculate the last time he’d been outside to do business and couldn’t remember. Her mind was too muddled with fear. Anxiety was only a breath away. Her breathing came in orderly succession only by sheer force of will. She couldn’t afford to become light-headed or pass out.