Page 23 of Saving Her

“Whatever you say,” Luther complies.

It’s an act. One I can’t mimic.

“I guess I’ll stay here then.” Chris steps away. “Just so you can feel like more of a man for keeping me outside.”

Cole claps him on the shoulder as he approaches the house. “If I were you, I wouldn’t forget your best buddy ate lead yesterday because of me.”

I suck in a breath as white noise assaults me.

Everything stops.

Every. Single. Thing.

Thoughts. Breath. Time.

I glance between the two men as they exchange muttered retorts my mind can’t decipher. I’m stunned. Confused. And painfully hopeful.

Your best buddy ate lead.

Should I allow myself the luxury of believing the comment was made about Robert? That the vile, piece of shit might actually be hurt? Or better yet, dead?

He didn’t return home with Chris and Luther.

They haven’t made mention of him at all.

My stomach heats, the warmth spreading rapidly as Luther stalks toward me, his glare enough of a warning to get me to hustle my ass inside while Chris and Cole continue to swap barbs.

I don’t allow hope free rein as I walk into the opulent house. I keep optimism’s wings clipped as I take in the open living and kitchen area, the entire space immaculate apart from a few mugs on the dining table.

“Sit,” Luther growls. “Here, beside me.”

He claims the recliner and pats his hand on the armrest.

I do as instructed, sticking close to my nightmare, not only to be seen as an obedient slave, but to read his energy. I want nothing more than to confirm if the anger simmering below his surface is from the loss of his henchman.

Tobias settles away from us, perching on the opposite sofa, right where Luther foretold him to be—alone, ready for Cole to take a position beside him.

“Where’s Luca?” I whisper. “What happens if he’s not here?”

“He’s here,” Luther snarls. “Now quiet.”

I snap my mouth shut as Cole enters the house, locking the door behind him and pulling across the sheer curtain. “The boy’s no longer glued to your side?” he asks, his attention raking over the boy, then me, to rest on his father.

“We heard you’re leaving.” Luther shrugs. “I guess he wants to make the most of the moments you have together.”

Leaving?

I scramble to understand what must have happened yesterday to cause their sudden departure. They were meant to be talking business. Discussing a partnership.

My outburst couldn’t have caused the dissolution of their plans, could it? Surely my mindless rebellion didn’t instigate an avalanche. If so, this stab-and-sedate attack won’t absolve the mess I’ve made.

This punishment isn’t enough.

Luther will want more from me. He’ll want everything.

I clutch my hands in my lap, digging my nails into my palms in an attempt to lessen the instinct screaming at me to fight to the death.

It isn’t until my target walks from the hall to take a few steps into the room, his chin high, his intense eyes finding mine, that the noise in my head lessens.

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