“That concerns me how?” Alexei sounded bored.

“The money I’d earmarked for your boss… She stole it.”

The Russian shrugged. “You owe us. Not her. And it’s not my problem if you can’t hold on to your money. You have less than two days. Bring the cash by noon. You know the place. If you can’t make the drop, just kill yourself. Don’t make me chase you. Oh, I wouldn’t go back to your place if I were you. The police are watching it.” Without another glance, the man left, barely making a sound.

As soon as the enforcer was gone, Neal clutched the island counter with both hands, using it for support as he dragged in a long breath. If the Russians knew the police were after him they obviously had a contact, or more likely multiple contacts, in the police department. And if the cops were definitely watching his place, Neal was absolutely fucked. They wanted him for questioning because they had something on him—knew he was guilty. They wouldn’t waste resources otherwise.

Unless he could get that money back. If he could get it back, he could pay off the Russians and disappear. Not his original plan, but he was willing to adapt. Because he couldn’t look over his shoulder every night waiting for Alexei or someone like him to jump out of the shadows and slice him to ribbons. The man would make him suffer for days, weeks, make him eat his own dick. Neal had heard the rumors of his viciousness and didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of Alexei’s wrath.

His only option was to go after Taylor himself, terrify her enough that he forced her into giving him his money back. He didn’t mind exacting revenge against her. Not at all. The thought of hurting her, making her suffer, was just icing on the cake.

Yes, he would get the money one way or another.

Chapter 9

“My brain hurts,” Taylor muttered from her seat next to Roman. They were in the back seat of one of the Powers Group’s SUV’s with Escobar driving them.

Roman didn’t blame her. After spending the last few hours at the police station with Detective Durnin, he knew she had to be exhausted. “We don’t have to go to Powers Group. I’m sure someone can bring you all your stuff,” he murmured. It was going to be hard for her to go there, something he wasn’t sure she fully realized.

“He’s right. This isn’t necessary,” Escobar agreed.

Taylor shook her head once, the stubborn set of her jaw making it clear she was doing what she wanted. “No. I want to.”

Roman leaned back against the seat and didn’t push her. Taylor needed her cell phone and other belongings left in her car at the company parking garage but he had a feeling she wanted to go to her place of employment for another reason. Maybe to face it after what had happened, he wasn’t sure.

They hadn’t had any privacy since heading to the police station. He’d waited there with her while she answered questions—sometimes the same ones over and over—then filled out her official report. They’d also taken pictures of her wound and added it to the file the hospital in Vegas had sent over and the bloody clothes she’d given them. He’d insisted on changing her bandage and had made sure she took her antibiotics.

He found he liked taking care of her, looking out for her. Her words from earlier, that she wasn’t looking for anything serious, kept playing in his head all day. Annoying the shit out of him. He knew he should be fucking thrilled she didn’t want anything serious. But the knowledge rankled him in a way he didn’t understand.

Unable to stop himself, his gaze strayed to her profile, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. She’d pulled her long, dark hair into a ponytail. It was mostly straight but there were a few natural waves to it that gave her a sexy, just-got-back-from-the-beach look. Her blue eyes seemed even brighter in the interior of the SUV, shocking against her bronze skin. Skin he wanted to stroke his fingers and tongue over, nibbling on her jaw, kissing his way down the long column of her neck, before burying his face between her breasts. The shirt his brother had given her had a V-neck and even though she was petite, the woman was top heavy.

Something he could definitely appreciate.

Taylor delicately cleared her throat, making him jerk his gaze upward. Her lips twitched as she raised one of her eyebrows.

He shrugged unapologetically and reached for her hand, linking his fingers through hers. He didn’t care that she’d caught him checking her out. Soon he planned to check out every inch of her naked body—and actually appreciate it while she wasn’t passed out and injured.

“The building’s mostly empty,” Escobar said, his voice making both of them divert their attention to the front.

Roman bent down and looked through the windshield at the partially lit building they were approaching. Ten stories, Taylor had told him. “What’s the security like?”

“We’re on virtual lockdown, all the exits secured. All keycards have been deactivated for the night. If there’s an emergency anyone can call me and gain access, but with everything going on, I didn’t want anyone coming in late or Neal somehow gaining access through someone else’s card.”

Taylor straightened next to Roman, her body pulling taut. “Why would he want access to the building?”

Escobar shrugged and shot them a glance in the rearview mirror as he pulled up to a closed gate for the parking garage. “Any number of reasons. There are two uniformed police officers in the building doing a methodical search looking for any evidence of the weapon used to…the weapon used. When Neal was tested for GSR he had some on his clothing, but there wasn’t the spray of blowback one would associate with recently firing a weapon. Which tells me he changed clothes and probably took a shower. Unless he managed to get the evidence out of the building before the cops showed up—and the timeline of Hugh’s death and the entry/exit logs from our system don’t allow for it—then he had to have stashed the clothes somewhere inside.”

“But he’s guilty, the cops seemed pretty sure of that.” A tremor threaded through Taylor’s voice, making Roman want to wring Neal Lynch’s neck.

“Yeah, there’s no doubt he is.” Escobar rolled down his window and punched a code into the keypad before the gate raised.

On instinct, Roman glanced behind them again. He’d been scanning their surroundings since they’d left the PD. They still had an escort behind them, with three Powers Group Security guys, but Roman didn’t know them and he didn’t trust anyone where Taylor’s safety was concerned. Except maybe Escobar. From what he’d seen of the guy, he liked him. More importantly, the man moved like he was trained. And the local PD trusted him. Roman planned to check him out more thoroughly, but his internal alarm wasn’t going off around this guy and that counted for a hell of a lot. He always trusted his instinct.

“But,” the man continued as he steered into the garage, “I wouldn’t put it past that bastard to try anything for his defense. With your testimony, if it even goes to trial, and the evidence, it’s pretty much a closed case, but they don’t want to give him any room for a defense. If the weapon and his clothes are found, I doubt it’ll even go to trial. It wouldn’t make sense for him when he could take a deal.”

“A deal?” Now she just sounded pissed.

Escobar snorted. “Yeah, a deal as in pleading down to a hundred years over a couple hundred. Once he’s caught he won’t see the outside of a prison again. Hugh had way too many powerful friends and Neal is going to burn.”

“Good. Hey, where did Hugh’s SUV come from?” Taylor asked suddenly before her eyes went wide.

Roman stiffened next to her. He knew she’d taken the SUV but hadn’t told the cops she’d ditched it. She’d more or less avoided that topic and they’d been more concerned with the shooting and finding Neal than anything else. Arresting him was their top priority now.