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Roman pivoted and pointed at a man who had a strong but lean build. “Mateo, keep a more distant watch, but never take your eyes off Genevieve. If she runs, you’re to track her down. If you have to detain her, do so without a bruise on her precious skin. Are we clear?”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. Jed just bruised her arm, and his men were supposed to handle her like she was a porcelain doll. Could they not see the irony?
Mateo nodded, responding with a strong accent. “Muy bien,sí señor, Roman. I’ll catch her if she runs and treat her with the gentle care you request.”
Genevieve believed Mateo would catch her in about five seconds if she bolted. He looked capable of competing in an Olympic marathon.
“Genevieve,”—Jed brushed his hand up her tender arm—“you’ll meet me for dinner tonight.”
“Of course.” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes and tacking on a sarcastic tone. “Should I dress up for you, babe?”
Jed smirked. “Dress up for me always, dove. No need to ask.” He sighed. “Soon enough, you’ll do so because you want to, not because you’re trying to beat me in a game that you’ll never win.”
“My life isn’t a game.”
He leaned toward her. “You’re right. There’s no game to play. I have your mother, and you’ll do anything for her. Therefore, I own you. Give yourself time, and you’ll fall in love with me again. Or have you forgotten that you’ve said those musical words to me many times before?” He grasped a fire-red lock of her silky hair between his fingers and brought the strands to his lips, kissing them as if marking her new look. “How could you not want me? You won’t even have to work anymore. Your marketing position here at The Outlaw has been filled. You’ll now live your life with endless funds and a man who adores you. Your main responsibility will be to raise our kids.”
Genevieve wanted to gag, but she held her face steady. Things had changed. She wasn’t the same green girl she’d been seven years ago when they’d first met. Aside from her moral issues with him, she’d seen his manipulative, controlling ways, and they could never go back. She would take him down or die trying. She just didn’t have a friggin’ clue how to do it yet.
Ten
GENEVIEVE
Genevieve weaved through the standard bright white employee hallways, still knowing the layout by heart. Killian stuck by her side like the super glue he’d promised Roman he’d be while Mateo was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps lurking in the shadows? How was she supposed to run when she didn’t even know where her enemies were?
She drove out a harsh sigh. One thing at a time. Getting overwhelmed wouldn’t do her any good. It wasn’t possible to cut the head off the snake yet, but her mom’s other piece of sound advice rang through her mind. Find an ally. Well, Brendan King was out, but one of her best friends from her Reno days was not. She just hoped Archer still worked in The Outlaw.
Genevieve burst through an employee door, unsuccessfully slamming it in Killian’s face as she stepped onto the Wild West casino floor.
Killian grumbled, “There’s no need for that, Ms. Genevieve.”
Genevieve grinned in satisfaction at getting under his skin and increased her pace, hoping to do so even more. A golden statue of Billy the Kid glimmered in the central lobby as she took the familiar escalator to the second floor and peeked in the window of The Wild West Salon. Thank the heavens. Archer! He still worked there. But would she endanger him by confiding in him? Allies, her mom’s voice shouted in her head. It’s not selfish, Gen. It’s survival!
Genevieve pulled open the wood-framed glass door. “Archer,” she screeched, the onset of tears springing to her eyes.
Archer spun around, the chain hanging from his black leather pants flailing with the movement. He gaped, then smiled, placing a hand on his narrow hip. The trendy spiral black-and-white dress shirt he wore had parted open, revealing the top of his bare chest.
Genevieve ran to him, jumping into his long arms.
“Genevieve. Oh my gosh, Gen. Thank god. Where have you been?” He drew her back and looked her over, bracing his hands on her arms. “I’ve been worried sick. Over two years and not a word.”
Genevieve puffed out a breath. “I’m so sorry, Arch. I told you about Marshal. I had to get away from him. Are you mad I didn’t tell you I was leaving?”
His smile faltered. “A little. I wish you had trusted me. Heck, at least called me, girl, and told me you were safe. I would never have told anyone anything.”
Genevieve pinched her eyes shut. “I hate that I walked out on you. It would have hurt me deeply if our roles were reversed, but I didn’t have a choice. It was run or become Marshal’s wife.”
Archer stepped back, eyeing her with concern. “So, Marshal’s changed his mind then? He’s moved on, and you’re just here to visit?”
“No, he hasn’t moved on. He caught me and forced me to come here.” Her lips trembled. “I have a marriage ultimatum. He kidnapped my mom to enforce it.”
“That son of a?—”
Genevieve placed a quick hand on his chest. “Don’t say it. Don’t say anything that can get you into trouble.”
She glanced behind her. Killian stood outside the salon with his shoulder propped up against a glass window, resting his eyes on her. Only one exit, so she had some space, but still, he was always watching.
Genevieve sighed. “Look, Arch, I don’t want to get into the details. I can’t risk Marshal’s men overhearing us. He knows I used to come in here a lot and probably has listening devices and cameras planted all over this salon. His thugs are likely monitoring our conversation right now. We have to be careful what we say.” She pleaded at him with her eyes. “I just need you. I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t make any friends on the run—I couldn’t—and to not talk to you has been excruciating. You’re my best friend. It’s been a rough few years without you.”
