Page 211 of Dance of Defiance
“I’m counting on it.”
I squat down and punch Connor in the face again. “You're going to be famous, motherfucker,” I hiss.
Vaughn and I nod at each other. Then, without any fanfare, we use our feet to kick Connor to the edge and over it.
A gurgled choke.
A splash.
Then—silence.
“Before we part ways.”
Back in the city, Vaughn pauses as he starts to open the passenger door of my car. Then he turns to level his gaze at me.
“I told you I had proof that I had no part in the bombing at your father’s safe house.”
He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a little plastic bag with “NYPD EVIDENCE” stamped on the side of it.He hands it to me, and I frown at the rubberized, neon orange box inside with what looks like Chinese lettering on it, about the size of a pack of cigarettes. It’s blackened and scorched, with the display screen cracked.
“What am I looking at?”
“It’s a timer for a bomb.” He nods his chin at it. “Specifically, the timer ofthatbomb, at your father’s safe house. Chinese military tech, probably stolen or sold on the black market.” He clears his throat. “This isn’t easy to get your hands on, for the record. It’s rare to see it used outside of military use, and even rarer to see it used in the U.S.”
When I look up at him with a puzzled expression, Vaughan smiles darkly. “IfIwere trying to bomb your father and Nikolai Antonov, surely I’d simply use a remote detonator.” He points to the bag in my hand. “Thatis for setting an explosive charge to go off at a predetermined time.”
I frown deeply. “And?”
“And, even if I knew about your father’s secret safe house, and had gained access to it without anyone knowing,how would I know when he’d be there?”
Fuck.
I never thought of that.
Vaughn shrugs as he opens the door and steps out.
“Oh, and Roman?” He ducks his head back in.
“Yes?”
He smirks. “If I'd wanted to blow up your father, Iwouldn’t have missed.”
He pats the roof of the car with his hand.
“Val’s lucky to have you, you know.”
40
VAL
“Where are we going?”
I glance over to the passenger seat of Roman’s car, where he’s currently sitting blindfolded. I groan a little as my dick thickens.
What can I say: the sight of this man bound, gagged, or blindfolded just…doesthings to me.
“You’ll see.”
He sighs. “Val?—”
