Page 70 of Glamour and Grit

One problem. I hit him with my injured hand. Renewed pain fires up all along my arm, from fingertip to elbow.

“Mother fucker!”

I sink to one knee and clutch my injured arm. That was stupid. A renewed sound of gunfire from the docks spurs me back to my feet, despite the pain. Axel is doing his part, it’s time for me to do mine.

Somewhere on this yacht, Selene is being held against her will. She’s probably scared, maybe even hurt. I have to get to her, no matter the cost.

I don’t know what’s going on between us. Maybe it’s just not in our stars to be together, or maybe we’ve got a damn decent shot at making it work. None of it matters if she gets killed.

I feel the first vestiges of a panic attack coming on.

“Oh no,” I groan. “Not now. Please, not now.”

My chest heaves with heavy pants, and my vision dims at the edges. Both of my arms grow numb, and I struggle to keep hold of the gun I only just retrieved from the deck.

A voice in my head tells me that it will always be this way. I’ll always choke when the chips are down, and someone else will always pay the price with their life…

No.

I hear Selene’s voice in my mind. No, Dane. You’re not a failure. Didn’t you take care of a lot of bad people before Klaus? One mistake doesn’t have to define you.

Moving on was something I could never do for myself. But maybe I can do it for her. For Selene. For the woman…

For the woman I love.

I don’t fight the panic, the fear. I relax my jaw, control my breathing. I’m not suffocating. There is plenty of air. I’m scared, but that doesn’t make me helpless. Slowly, my breathing slows, and my vision returns to normal.

I flex my fingers as the numbness leaves my limbs. The sensation of impending doom and despair dissipates until it’s only a faded memory. I’m lucky. I was able to fight through this one. Doesn’t happen every time. I’ve lost the fight more than I’ve won it.

But this time, when it counted, I overcame it. Now I can help Selene. This yacht is huge, but it’s a finite, confined space. I’ll find her. I’ll damn sure find her.

The sound of footsteps sends me scrambling for a place to hide. I take refuge behind a small bar built right into the deck. My breath fogs a bottle of Hennesy as the footsteps come closer.

Peeking carefully through a crevice in the bar, I see a man come into view. I almost don’t recognize him because he looks so much different from the photo Selene showed me. But then I notice the family resemblance in his face and hair color. It’s Justin, all right.

I stand up from behind the bar, lowering my gun.

“Justin,” I call out softly.

His gaze snaps over to me, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“Where’s your sister? Is she hurt?”

I come out from behind the bar and approach him. I’m about five paces away when he raises a pistol and points it dead center at my chest.

“Hey, idiot,” I growl. “I’m here to rescue you. Your sister hired me–”

“I know who you are, Dane,” he says. His eyes are tortured, but the gun doesn’t waver in his grasp. He doesn’t have any qualms about shooting me. “And there’s something you should know. Those men you killed? The ones who are fighting and dying right now? They’re not just goons, they’re Moreno’s family. His cousins and nephews.”

“So you’re working with the Morenos,” I say, trying to gauge the distance between us. I can raise my gun and fire in about a quarter ofa second, but he’ll definitely get to fire at least once before then. And he has me dead to rights. I don’t see how he can miss.

“Shut up, I’m still talking,” he sputters. “I’m so tired of everyone not giving me respect. Well, once I’m a made man, I’ll have the respect I deserve. And being as you just offed a half dozen of Moreno’s own blood, killing you should get my foot in the door.”

He’s going to shoot me. I have no choice but to take the chance he’ll miss, or that it won’t be a lethal shot–

“No!”

Selene is suddenly there, throwing herself between me and her brother.

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