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“Could be, but we still have to go about this rationally. We’ve got to be able to explain things to the Feds if they come after us. Brendan King isn’t a nobody. People will miss him. We scanned the vehicle and picked up two people. What if Manning Cole’s with him? We’ll never get away with taking either of them out unless we stage it during their normal routine. We’ve got to cut their brakes while they’re at work or something like that.”
“No way Manning Cole’s in that Alpha. Cole’s smarter than that. It’s lover boy and some excuse of a guard he brought with him for protection. Annihilate them. Surround the target, force them out, and pump them full of lead. This is my property. I dare anyone to challenge what’s mine, especially a geeky little office freak who’s hot on my woman. Brendan King is less than a nobody in the state of Nevada. You’re giving him credit he doesn’t deserve. We’ll bury his body in the desert—no one will challenge us on our turf, and he’ll quickly be forgotten.”
Genevieve bit her tongue, her pulse skyrocketing as Jed turned and studied her tormented eyes. She was one bad decision from losing the man she loved.
“Problem, dove?”
“No, Jed,” she whispered. “I’m with you.” She swallowed and forced out, “I love you.”
Jed tilted his head, narrowing his eyes into slits. “On second thought, Luke, let’s bring the bastard in here. I want him to fully register that he’s lost before he dies. I’d like Brendan King to hear my girl acquiesce to me and know there’s nothing he can do about it.” He waltzed over to the sofa and kissed her with a possessiveness that rose bile in her throat. “I told you not to lie to me, dove, but in this case, I’ll let it go. If you say the words enough, perhaps they’ll become ingrained in that beautiful brain of yours. Say it again.”
Oh god, not again. She’d only said it to protect Brendan, and that hadn’t worked. But if she challenged Jed right now, would she get the chance to save the man she loved?
“I love you, Jed. I’m with you.”
“That’s my girl. Don’t forget where your loyalty lies.” He motioned with his head. “Go stand by Archer.”
Genevieve stood and walked obediently to Archer’s side, doing everything she could not to roll her eyes.
Pointing a commanding finger toward Archer, Jed said, “Don’t let her out of your sight. That’s your one and only job. My men don’t fail me. You are to bring her to me at my every request.”
Archer nodded, holding his thumb up in a lame gesture that made her want to slap him across the face. “You got it, boss.”
Jed turned on his heel and marched out the door with his full brigade trailing behind him.
Archer waited until Jed was out the door before eyeing her in disgust. “Why are you fighting Marshal? Give in, Gen. You’re making this worse for both of us—prolonging the length of time it takes him to trust you and putting extra pressure on me. If you keep pissing him off, we’ll be stuck in this house all the time. I want to be able to go shopping, hit the clubs, maybe even gamble now and again.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Scoffing, she shook her head. “So selfish and sneaky. I can’t believe I ever thought you were my friend.” With a hiss, she tacked on, “Snake.”
“It’s you who’s acting like a snake.”
Genevieve swiveled toward Archer, bent her open palm backward, and struck upwards into his nose. The crunch was as sickening as it was satisfying.
“Ow,” Archer wailed. “For fuck’s sake, Gen. Have you lost it?”
Genevieve smiled with satisfaction while she flexed her fingers against her sore palm. “Take that, snake.”
A man’s laugh erupted from across the room.
She turned her head, crinkling her eyes as a muscular figure with mythical tattoos covering his arms and legs emerged from a hidden corner. “Killian?”
He smiled as he made his way to her side, the gesture softening his features and making him look like a burly teddy bear rather than a bodyguard. Had he laughed that she’d taken it to Archer because he was jealous?
“Why aren’t you with Jed and his main men?” Genevieve asked.
Killian chuckled at her dig. “His men other than Archer, you mean?”
She bit her lip, nodding. “I guessed right, didn’t I? You’re bitter about Archer getting promoted above you.”
Killian shrugged. “Fifteen years I’ve supported Marshal, and that backstabber”—he pointed a finger at Archer—“gets a top position. I don’t like how he turned on you.” Crossing his arms while shaking his head, he added, “Don’t care for the weasel one bit.”
“Neither do I. Not anymore.” Genevieve sighed. “Obviously.”
Archer shot daggers at them both while he held the base of his black knitwear shirt to his nose.
An amused expression flitted across Killian’s face. “I can break your bestie’s arm, too, if you’d like? We can claim he tripped and fell.”
“I can break it myself.” Genevieve grinned and winked at him. “I’ve been training.”
