Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“It’s money. Only money,” he insisted. “I wouldn’t put anyone else at risk. Not ever.”
That was the first honest thing he’d said in hours. “She’s blackmailing you.”
“Yeah. I guess that’s obvious.”
At least she had that much to work with. “Okay. You know the best and easiest solution is to put it out there yourself. Whatever she’s got on you. We can get you a lawyer and a crisis management PR firm. I can have them here within twenty-four hours. The only way to deal with a blackmailer is to take out the threat.”
“How much would it cost to take out the threat?” Josh sounded numb.
She was going to have to get on the phone with Big Tag. She was fairly certain he would know how to start. His personal lawyer, Mitch Bradford, used to practice in this part of California. He would definitely know how to help. “I don’t know. Probably less than you’ve paid already. It depends on what the threat is and how much work the publicity team will have to do. Do we need a criminal lawyer, too?”
For him, that is. Perhaps he did something in his youth that was coming back to haunt him. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think Josh was capable of doing anything truly awful.
“You don’t understand what I’m asking,” he replied quietly. “I meant how much would it take for you to kill her?”
Oddly enough, that wasn’t something awful. That was something that needed to happen. Years spent working in the gray areas of morality had definitely had an effect on her. “I would do that for free. I would do that for fun, Josh. Give me the information I need to find her and I’ll make sure she never calls you again.”
He sighed and leaned against the window. “Sorry, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve been through too much and I don’t want you back in that world. I don’t want you involved in any of this. I wanted to keep you out. I wanted to protect you. I wanted…who the hell is that?”
He sat up straight and Kay turned to see what he was talking about.
Someone was standing in their driveway. Two someones. The light hit them and she gasped. Two men. One black, one white. Both dressed like they were going on a cruise in white pants and casual loose cotton shirts. One held a poodle.
“Reporters?” Josh asked.
“So much worse.” She stopped in the middle of the road. She’d thought the night was as bad as it could get. Nope. “Those are my dads.”
* * * *
The night had been so horrible. He’d known the minute she’d caught up to him on that trail that this night would count as one of the worst of his life because this was going to be the night he lost Kay. One way or another. Earlier he’d been worried sick he would lose her to a bullet and then to the need to keep her safe and away from his trouble. He’d known this would be one of his darkest nights.
But somehow that look on her face—utter horror from a woman who’d looked into the heart of darkness and tried to tickle it—brought him out of his morose brood. He’d been having a brood, as she called it, and now he couldn’t help but feel something lift at that look in her eyes. All this time, she’d been the strong one, the stalwart, never-say-die ex-spy. She’d assassinated world leaders without blinking an eye, but those elderly men and that dog scared the shit out of her.
“Are you going to drive by them?” Somehow her complete and total shutdown stopped his own. One of them had to be functional, right? They were…they were partners. He hadn’t had a partner he could truly count on in years, one who picked up the slack when he couldn’t. One who needed him to do the same when her two dads showed up on their doorstep.
It was a perfect sitcom moment, and he didn’t want it ruined by that bitch.
“Baby, I think they know it’s you,” he pointed out. “We could run, but they might get in that…is that a Prius? I think the Porsche could take it but not the way you drive.”
She frowned and turned his way. “I drive fine. I’m a magnificent driver. I once got away from a Russian operative driving a hundred and ten miles an hour down an icy Siberian highway.”
“You didn’t do it in this Porsche.” Somehow even through his misery, he’d been sad about how hard she’d been on his other baby. If she’d been anyone else in the world, he would have kicked her out and called in a driver.
When had she become more important than his things? Materialism had been safe for so long, but he hadn’t done much more than bitch a little about her stripping his gears. He hadn’t forced her to comply with his wishes.