Page 147 of Ricochet

“Tough guy’s using tough words,” Cullen mocked and turned to Hawke. “Whatcha doing with clean-cut friends like this?”

Hawke chuckled. “Jesus, Cullen, do you ever shut up?”

“Hawke, where is she?”Colin’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t worry about her. We came to an understanding,” Hawke added. “Everything’s going to work out fine.”

“Meaning what?” Colin growled. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Club business,” Cullen added then let his lip curl. “You ain’t Mayhem.”

“You know, I am so tired of hearing about Mayhem.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. “Well, then you and I’ve got a problem.”

“No, youdo.” Colin rubbed his temples. They were patiently waiting for Adelia to stroll up and attack Gloria Astor in her final act before Mayhem killed her, except now, they weren’t going to kill her. “Hate to break it to you, Mayhem’s not the only one who wants her dead.”

“That’s probably the truth,” Cullen grumbled. “I ran across the tart one time—”

“Meaning, what exactly?” Hawke straightened, takingColin more seriously.

God forbid someone else try to kill Adelia. If they wanted to, fine. If someone else wanted to, that was a problem. Colin wanted to beat the hell out of Hawke and Cullen.

A buzz of activity grew suddenly and steadily louder behind them as a row of reporters started to go live. Reporters had their fingers pressed into their ears as they listened to ear pieces while othersintently watched their cell phones and furiously scrolled. It was the first time Colin had ever seen news break, and one by one, dozens of bright lights illuminated a line of reporters, all talking next to each other, none seeming to notice the others.

“What’s going on there?” Cullen muttered.

“Big news?” Colin watched. There had been a couple of stories on the evening news radio that cut intothe traffic reports they’d occasionally scanned. The truth was, it sounded too much like work, and Colin didn’t have the energy to listen to real life when he didn’t have to.

“Like a sex scandal,” Cullen jab. “Maybe some celebrity got engaged to someone’s baby’s mama. That’s make all them jump like that.”

“We might agree on something,” Colin mumbled, watching the array of reporters and journalistsin action. It was almost hypnotic to hear them all at once.

Hawke nodded to a muted television hanging in a casual seating area the hotel lobby. The headline on the bottom of the screen, semi-obscured by closed captioning that they were too far away to see readBillionaire CEO Humanitarian’s Secret Life.

“Hawke!”

They twisted to see three large men pushing out the front of the hotel. She wasout of view, but she had to have been with them. Colin strode toward the exit—until the unmistakable touch of a gun barrel against his back brought him to a standstill.

Cullen pressed close. “Hang tight a minute, cowboy. I need you to stay here.”

---