“I’ll fucking kill you.” She lunges at me, but I’m ready for her.
I rear back and throw my fist into her face as she charges. Blood spurts, and she goes down like a pile of bricks to the floor.
“You bitch. You broke my nose.”
“Be grateful that’s all I broke.” I loom over her as she writhes in pain on the floor, clutching her broken nose and cursing me. “You are so fucking fired.”
“Fuck you, Callie. I hate you.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, you evil witch. I hope you rot in hell.” All my pent-up rage comes out as I kick her hard enough in the hip that she rolls onto her stomach, screaming more vitriol and threats.
“You did good, Callie.” Boone steps in, nudging me aside so he can bind Silla’s hands behind her back with a zip tie.
I grin as blood pours out her nose and all over the white carpet. “Thanks, Boone. I couldn’t have done this without you. Wait. Where’s Novak? Jace? Cam?” I ask, panic rising.
“They’re safe.” Mason lays a hand on my shoulder and shouts, “Jace! Cam!”
“Miss us?” Cameron croons as he and Jace walk out of the kitchen, clutching a black-eyed and bloody-lipped Novak under their arms.
The creep struggles but can’t do much with his hands tied behind his back.
Relief floods my system at the pair of them. My brothers.
Jace grips the back of Novak’s neck and shoves him. “Can you believe this dickhead thought he was going to get away? Tried to sneak out too.”
Cam chuckles. “Jace clocked his ass before I could. Big bro is no fun. He wouldn’t let me hit him.” He pouts like a sullen child, making me laugh.
“You have playoffs. We can’t chance your hand getting injured,” Jace points out.
“Touché.” Cam winks at me, reminding me so much of Eli.
I really need to get back to him. He’s probably woken up by now, and if I know my man, he’s going to be pissed and worried.
“Let go of me, you fucking assholes,” Novak shouts, but he’s cut off when Cameron twists his body around and knees Novak in the stomach. The piece of crap falls to his knees, gasping for breath.
“That’s for my brother, you prick.” Cam spits on him.
The door flies open, and armed police walk into the living room, weapons drawn. We all raise our hands, and the police officer leading the group takes in the scene. When his eyes land on me and Cameron, he lowers his weapon, ordering his team to do the same.
“Did someone call in a disturbance?” the cop asks.
Boone and Mason step forward to explain the situation, going into detail about how we put together this sting to capture Silla on tape, confessing to her crimes including embezzlement, insurance fraud, murder-for-hire, and identity theft, as well as Novak’s involvement and how I can identify him as the man who killed my father.
The officer—who turned out to be a detective—orders his colleagues to take Silla and Novak into custody. When he asks me to go with him to the station to make a statement, my new lawyer steps in. Jace exchanges information with the detective and tells him I will be at the station in two days, after we know for certain Eli will make a full recovery.
Boone offers to stay back and help the officers collect the evidence. I give him a giant bear-hug, thanking him for all his help. His stunt knowledge and help made all the difference. He’s the reason Silla confessed. Like Eli would say, I owe him a favor.
More like a thousand favors.
As the adrenaline wears off, I bend over, shake my fist, and hiss at the searing pain blooming in my fist and knuckles from punching Silla in the face. “Oh fuck. You guys, my hand hurts. Movies don’t tell you how badly it hurts to punch someone.”
“No, they don’t,” Mason agrees.
Jace disappears and returns with a baggie of ice and a dish towel. He wraps my hand up, like a real big brother.
I sniff back tears as my heart grows twice its size as Eli’s brothers take care of me. “Thank you.”
Jace bumps my chin with his fist. “Any time, Callie.”