Page 141 of The Vigilant

Two minutes.

I was going to check on Dare and give her two minutes. I didn’t trust the look in her eyes with more. I fished out my phone as I left the two of them in the garage, firing off a message to Harm just in case Dare hadn’t already broken the news.

“The FBI are on their way,” Dare said as soon as I stepped into the hall. He was just coming out of the office.

“Great,” I muttered, heavy on the sarcasm.

“I don’t like this.” He stopped in front of me.

“How do they know each other?” I asked, having this feeling like he knew something.

“I wish I knew.” He folded his arms, his expression pained.

Before I could say anything else, there was a loud crash from inside the garage.

“Dammit.”Not even two fucking minutes.

I whipped the door back open, Dare following right behind me.

“Robyn!” I shouted, seeing Remington on the ground, his chair tipped over. Rob stood over him, shaking her hand by her side.

She glared at us. “You said two minutes.”

“And you said you wouldn’t be stupid.” I hauled the man and the chair upright, a shiner already starting to form on the side of his cheek.

“FBI is ten minutes out,” Dare told her, his eyes whipping over the scene.

“Shit,” Robyn spat. “Call them off.”

“Call them—you told me to call them,” he growled. “I told them Remington was here. There is no calling them off.”

Remington cleared his throat. “I guess you should untie me then so we can get out of here.”

“Whoa, hold the hell up. She’s not going anywhere with you,” Dare said and looked to Robyn to confirm.

Anyone in their right mind would confirm. He was Damon Remington. The king of the FBI’s most wanted. Criminal consultant and mastermind.

And that was why everyone’s collective jaws dropped when Robyn ordered low, “Cut him loose.”

I pulled out a blade but made no move to use it.

“What the fuck? You’re not going with him, Rob. I won’t allow it. Harm will kill me?—”

“I’ll be fine,” she snapped and grabbed the switchblade from my hand, cutting the zip ties at his feet before anyone could stop her.

“Not my hands?” He arched a brow.

“Not a chance.”

“You should just tell them,” Remington said smoothly, his dark eyes almost dancing as he watched her.

“Let’s go,” she snarled, holding the blade like she was ready to use it on other parts of him with only the slightest provocation.

“Tell us what?” I stepped in front of her, blocking her exit—and blocking her brother from shaking the daylights and the truth out of her.

“Let us go,” she demanded low.

“Not without good reason.”

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