Page 56 of The Verdict

After a fruitless sweep of the space, I grabbed one of the leather chairs facing the gas fireplace and turned it so I’d have a clear view of the entry—and the first shot at anyone who came inside.

At least the shoddy bandage over my stitches held until I’d sat down before blood started to seep through it and into my shirt. I didn’t want to bleed all over Rhys’s jacket, but I’d tear my stitches completely if I tried to take it off now. Plus, it better concealed my wound; if Jupiter caught any sign of weakness, my already questionable plan would go down the tubes.

In and out, I forced steady breaths, my eyes boring a hole in the mahogany door until my vision started to swim and blur and morph into the memory of Rhys’s face. The pain and shock of my betrayal. What he must be thinking right now…How much he must hate me.

If only he knew… my stomach turned. I couldn’t think about that now; it was worse than pointless, it wasn’t possible. My past was like a sinking ship. He so desperately wanted to help bail out the water, but that wouldn’t save it—or me; it would only endanger us both.

The doorknob jostled, and I froze, my focus snapping to the door. A second jostle, and I sat deeper into the seat without a sound, tightening my grip on Rhys’s gun, the barrel aimed at the door.

Come on.I breathed out slowly and let dangerous confidence fill my cells. It replaced pain. It replaced fear. It replaced weakness.It replaced me.

I had one shot to bargain with the man who wanted medead. One shot to give him what he wanted in exchange for my freedom. I couldn’t waste it.

The door swung open, and the rush of heat along my spine should’ve been a warning that the man who entered wasfriendrather than foe.

No. No. No.

I failed to control my gasp of surprise as I jolted upright. “Rhys.”

He couldn’t be here.How could he be here?

“Ahh!” I cried out as pain stabbed my side.

“Drop it.” He spoke with lethal coldness, and when I looked up, his blistering stare pierced mine over the barrel of his weapon that was aimed at my chest.

Dios mío.

Gone was the man who’d protected me. Defended me. Fought for me. Gone was the man who swore we had something real, and in his place was the familiar, handsome shell that did nothing to disguise the bitter rage underneath.

And I deserved nothing less. I’d lied to him. Left without explanation. And then, when he saved me—again—from a man who wished me harm, I’d thanked him with that nasty purple gash on the side of his head.

“Rhys, please?—”

“Drop the fucking gun, Merritt,” he ordered, his tone a volatile experiment of pain and betrayal.

He wouldn’t shoot me.I swallowed over the lump in my throat. Even though I’d hurt him—lied to him. Even though he hated me, he wouldn’t shoot me, and knowing that made what I’d done to him a thousand times worse. But I didn’t have a choice, just like I didn’t have one now.

I locked my teeth and bent forward.That didn’t feel good.The thought was belated as I set my weapon on the ground.There was no way I could overpower the both of them—no way to escape a second time, especially not with how woozy I was starting to feel.

“Please, you have to go,” I begged, sitting tall again.

“Why? So you can get your cut of the diamond?”

I reeled, shock hitting me like an arctic gale.He knew about the heist. About the gang.I tried to breathe, but there wasn’t enough air left in the world to support the strain on my lungs.

Whatever he knew… it wasn’t everything,I forced myself to remember.No one knew everything.

“And if it is?” I croaked and lifted my chin, seeing two of him before they merged into one.

Shit.Nausea rolled through me, and I swayed forward for a second.

“Well, you can’t always get what you want.” He stepped closer, his jaw pulsing with tension like he expected me to run or attack him again—anything to get away. “Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

“Rhys…” Dare cautioned.

I didn’t give Rhys a chance to consider Dare’s warning before I forced my arms back, whimpering when some of my stitches popped free. Within seconds, I heard the whistle of the zip tie locking my arms prisoner but felt nothing. Nothing except cold skin and heavy limbs.

“Don’t do this.” My voice dropped to half a whisper so only he could hear.

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