Page 43 of Clay

She nodded, gulped.

“Listen, you know this guy better than any of us. We need to roll out in the next five minutes, but is there anything else we need to know?”

He realized they should have asked that question a lot sooner and allowed himself a moment to be pissed before she spoke.

“He’s a misogynistic asshole who thinks he’s a much better cop than he actually is.” She sighed. “I ended it with him when he started getting super possessive. Then he got obsessed, laid hands on me, so I bolted. I should have done a better job of hiding, but I was new to all of it.” She shook her head. “I obviously got better at it as the years went on.”

Clay digested her words. Looked at the team who, for the first time, truly, were counting on him to lead. “He’ll be rash. Emotional. If we can, we’ll use that. Tate, be ready for the shot ifhe looks sideways at Ivy. I’d prefer him alive, but pretty sure we can work around a fatality.” He looked to Jordan, who nodded, and he got his confirmation that LVMPD would back them up.

“Mount up,” he said, and walked to the armory for his own weapon.

~

Ivy didn’t hate many people, but she would have hated Greg Hamilton the second she met him, if it had been under other circumstances. He was just such a dick weasel. She had no idea why Katie had even given him the time of day.

The fact he’d terrorized her best friend and given her what she suspected was one hell of a shiner only compounded her complete and utter hatred.

He’d dragged her up half a damn mountainside, the heat of the dying day baking them like overdone cookies. They stood in the mouth of a mine shaft, a hundred feet above the dry, brown valley floor. In the distance she could see the distinctive lines of the casino in Jean, the snaking blacktop of the I-15. And closer, a rising line of dust from a white SUV as it arrowed directly toward them. Clay.

She blew out a breath, growled at Hamilton when he yanked at the cuffs that bound her hands behind her back. “Looks like your flyboy came through, bitch,” he said, his hot breath on the nape of her neck. “I’m almost sad. I was looking forward to sampling you.”

Gooseflesh spread across her body, even in the heat, and he laughed at her shiver of disgust.

Fucker. He thrived on the power much more than sex, just like a typical rapist.

The SUV was pulling to a stop, two figures exiting. Oh God, Clay had actually found Katie. Was going through with this insane swap. They began the climb and Hamilton pulled out his cell and called Clay.

“Stop right there, flyboy,” he jeered. “Send Katie up on her own.”

Clay laughed. Actually laughed and something inside Ivy lightened. He had a plan. She didn’t know everything about Clay Andrews, not yet. But she knew he’d never goad a lunatic like Hamilton without a plan.

“Good try, asshole. I’ll send Katie up if you send Ivy down.”

Hamilton fisted a hand in her hair. As if the cuffs weren’t enough.

“Looks like we’re at a stalemate then, because I’m not sending down my leverage.”

Clay sighed. “Listen, man. Katie wants this to be over, she’s tired of running and hiding and actually seems to like the idea of you coming all this way to find her. I don’t get it, but I never claimed to understand women. Ivy is a client, one I’ve sworn to protect. So how about we send them up and down at the same time?”

Ivy knew it was all a ploy. Maybe to get the other SMS members in place? But she’d bet her life on Clay.

She could feel Hamilton considering Clay’s words.

“Come further up, I want to see her,” he said, then disconnected, fisting Ivy’s hair even tighter.

She refused to whimper because she knew it’d feed into his machismo. So instead she stiffened her spine and waited for the moment. Because she knew there would be one.

She watched as Clay and Katie ascended the rocky trail to the mouth of the mine, narrowed her eyes as she realized that Katie was far too surefooted to be the woman she’d grown up with. Prayed that Clay knew what he was doing.

They got within ten yards of her and Hamilton before he figured it out. He slid behind her body, angling his handgun against her temple, using her as a human shield as Clay and the woman drew their own weapons.

“It’s over, Hamilton,” Clay said. “There’s no way out.”

Hamilton laughed, a maniacal tinge to the sound. “There’s always a way out, flyboy. When did you grow a set of balls?”

“Two years ago, when I was shot down over Syria,” Clay said, almost companionably. “Thought I was going to die at the hands of a particularly nasty cell of insurgents. Obviously didn’t happen.”

Hamilton went still and Ivy knew he’d just realized how vastly he’d underestimated Clay.

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