Page 82 of Lethal Lover

Not gone.

Chapter32

Valentina

Quinn’s eyes harden as they wrestle with mine. Two men stand behind him and from the way he tenses against me, I know they’ve got a gun to his back. They might even havehisgun to his back.

At this point I don’t know who in the motherfuck is working with us or against us.

Did the little whore he brought back here give us up?

Was it Mercer?

Or just fucking bad luck?

Anger snakes through me like poison, seeping into every crevice and cell. I want to grab Alek by the neck and throttle him, but that’s going to have to wait until we get back to the safehouse. And wewillget back there if there’s still breath in my damn body.

“You’re coming with us,” the guy directly behind Quinn grunts.

My eyes dart left and right. The hallway is dark and filled with people otherwise occupied with more carnal happenings. In the throes of orgasm, I seriously doubt any of them would blink an eye at us being accosted.

Scenarios fly through my mind. If we run, they’ll shoot us dead. And if the powers that be are onto us, I’m sure there are more security guys waiting for us outside this hallway of ill repute.

We have no choice… at least, not until we make it out that door.

I give Quinn a tiny nod, hoping to God he gets my telepathic message to stand the hell down.

The guy behind Quinn grabs his shirt and shoves him forward. I follow close behind. I press myself into his back, the imprint of his gun against my stomach. I let out an unsteady breath. With my stiletto tucked back into my bra and his gun, we might be okay.

A nagging feeling twists my gut.

But what about Branko? And the auction? And the girls?

Guilt and regret pummel me. I can’t let him get away. Not again. I’ve been chasing him for too long.

This—he—end tonight.

Unwelcome fury flickers in my gut. I don’t want to acknowledge it, but the possibility gnaws at my insides like a rat on rotting trash.

Quinn might have led them straight to us. Who the fuck knows who that Mandee girl really is? She could have been paid to give us up. Who knows what she said to security when she was angling for a way to get back here? And the fact that she was completely unruffled about seeing Stepanov’s dead body splayed all over the floor should have been a glaring red flag.

So yeah, it’s entirely possible that Quinn might have fucked us again.

And even though I don’t want to believe it because I’m falling for the goddamn crazy vigilante asshole, he might be the very reason why Branko slips through my fingers again, and from what we’re told, it might be the last time.

I flex my fingers, electricity crackling on the tips as we walk toward the door at the end of the hallway. The barrel of a gun is stuck to my back, a reminder that if I make a move once we’re outside the door, it puts Quinn at risk.

That realization sends a shudder through me.

I lied to him back at the safehouse to piss him off and keep him from following me.

Now he’s here, right in front of me, and it turns out he’s the biggest obstacle between me and the elusive Branko.

My heart clenches with fear.

Alek always told me I’d have to make a choice and until now, I’d been able to avoid it.

But it hovers over me like a threatening cloud, a warning of the impending evil that waits for us outside that door.

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