Page 65 of Crossfire

Then again, a criminal mastermind would know how to play me for a fool. My damn ribs tightened at the betrayal.

Her eyes widened with a sudden realization. “Oh God…it was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who set me up at the garage.”

It was like she wasn’t even listening. Not that I’d expect anything less from a violent criminal mastermind.

“I actually believed you.” Un-fucking real. How insulting, to be played like this.

Her trembling lip was probably fake as hell. No one who was truly scared would have the balls to dig the tip of her blade deep enough to sting, a drop of blood dripping down my neck.

“You’re Bob! The man online.” Her voice broke.

The muscles in my neck tightened as I struggled to maintain my composure.

“Are you seriously going to keep up with this charade,Samantha?”

“You orchestrated all of this, didn’t you? The garage, the coffee shop…everything?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You…you tricked me into going to that garage!”

What a pro, shuddering like a scared, helpless civilian. Just like she’d done with her alleged ex-boyfriend. It must’ve all been a stunt to make me believe the whole charade was my idea to sit with her in the coffee shop.

“And now, you duped me again,” she added in a wounded tone.

With tears breaking over her cheeks, she was doing a superior job, looking heartbroken to sell her cover story. But she was one of Vosch’s. Had to be.

Yet even as the realization solidified in my mind, my instincts rebelled against it. This close, I could see the genuine hurt and confusion in her features. She was good—too good. Either the best actress in the world or…

No. I couldn’t let myself go down that road. Letting my guard down again would be a fatal mistake. Whatever else she was, whatever we’d had together, was a lie.

The question was…why? Why had she played me?

“What was your plan, Samantha?”

“How could you?” Her breath hitched as a sob escaped her throat for good measure. “How did you know about my father?”

“Did you think you would get intel out of me?” I demanded.

“Why did you tell me all those things about my dad?” she asked through a ragged breath, her face contorting in anguish. “Why did you try to kill me?”

“You severely underestimated me, sweetheart.”

“And why are you tryingagain?”

Look at her eyes, shimmering with fresh tears, congestion clogging her sinuses with supposed pain.It’s fake, Grayson.Don’t let her pull at your heartstrings. Don’t let her play you again.

I hated that my gut clenched at the sights and sounds of her hurt, but in my defense, I was used to the kind of evil that fires with weapons, not words and mannerisms.

“Stop with the act,” I growled, my grip tightening on the blade. “We both know what you are, so just tell me the truth.”

I needed to hear it, to give me the push I needed to drag this blade across her neck. To make me understand what would haunt me forever.

“What are you talking about?” she pleaded.

“You saw me, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“In the parking garage.”

Her eyes narrowed so tightly, I thought they’d cut her face.

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