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I stare at Molly for a few stunned seconds. “I had him, Muffin.”

Her wide, unblinking eyes don’t seem to focus on anything at first, then slowly slide my way. “He could still walk with a broken wrist.”

Who is this woman? “Good point.”

Heart still hammering, I rush to the wall and slap my hand over the button to close the garage door.

The guy flops and drags himself faster over the dirty concrete.

He won’t make it in time, so I leave him be.

Everyone, even this greasy piece of shit, deserves the delusion of hope.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Molly

“If you give Griff one more dirty look,” I warn my brother. My threat’s empty since I can’t think of anything that would actually scare Remy.

The tension in his face fades into a smile. “What? You gonna stuff my shoes full of paper again?”

“Maybe.” I cross my aching arms over my chest, then release them. “It’s not Griff’s fault.” My eyes water and my throat tightens as all the fear of what just happened ripples over me. “He…he put himself between a gun and me.”

Griff pulls me into his arms, wrapping himself around my body like a cocoon of protection. “Shhh.” He kisses the top of my head. “We’re okay now. It’s okay.”

“Why’d you do that?” I rasp. “You could’ve?—”

“That’s just how I’m built, baby. I didn’t think about it.”

He knows he could’ve been shot, right? His heart thumps wildly against my ear as I press myself tighter to his chest. At least he’s not as calm as he seems on the outside.

“I was scared as shit he was going to accidentally fire the gun,” he says to my brother.

“Well, he’s not shooting anything now.”

The robber’s zip-tied ten different ways into what looks like an uncomfortable position on the garage floor in front of my car.

Griff’s arms tighten around me. “What the fuck made you grab a crowbar?”

I pull back so I can see his face. “We’re in a garage. It was the first thing I saw.”

Remy snorts. “You’re turning my sister into a serial killer.”

I turn and glare at him. “I’d argue you’ve both contributed to my serial killer education.” I hold up one fist. “Who’s been teaching me how to defend myself since I was five?”

“She hasn’t killed anyone,” Griff says. “Don’t put ideas in her head.”

“So, what are we doing with him?” Remy asks.

“After I called you, I called Jigsaw and Dex. I assume they’ll spread the word.”

“Thank fuck Jerry’s off in Nova Scotia and the rest of his employees are slackers.” Griff runs his hands through his hair and turns his head toward the office. “This could’ve been really fucked if more people were here.”

“Guys, aren’t we going to call the police?” It seems like one of them should’ve done that by now.

Remy tilts his head and studies me for a minute. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll assume Griff’s completely innocent.”

“He is!”

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