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Brendan drove the Hummer up onto the outer patio of Jed Marshall’s stucco mansion, facing an impressive span of multi-paned windows. Marshal stood tall, crossing his arms. A full spread of guys with guns fanned out behind him. Brendan gulped, thinking he might lose the ham and Swiss sandwich he’d eaten for lunch, but he swallowed down his fear. Genevieve was worth risking his life. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again.
The rush of adrenaline from driving a bulletproofed-like tank across the desert was over, replaced by a much more pressing rush—staying alive. He shoved the Glock that Quill had grabbed from the back of the Hummer deeper into his suit pants pocket and reached for the door handle.
Quill gawked at him. “What are you doing?”
“Marshal’s not going to kill me. Not yet, anyway.”
“What do you mean he’s not going to kill you? He’ll blow your brains out the second you open that door.”
“No, he won’t. Look at the smug look on his face. He wants to prove something first. Me going in there is the only way. If I don’t act now, he’ll move Genevieve before backup arrives. You stay in the Hummer and be ready to be our getaway driver.”
Quill grabbed his forearm, fiercely shaking his head. “You’ve lost it, bro. There’s no way Marshal isn’t going to take you out the first chance he gets. The man’s not patient or stupid. We’ve studied his movements. You know this. Let’s stay in the Hummer, distract him, and wait for Manning to act like we talked about.”
Brendan contemplated Marshal’s egotistical expression through the bulletproofed windshield. “This isn’t business for him. It’s personal. He wants to make me pay for challenging him, and trust me, he’ll want to do it in front of Genevieve. My death is meant to send a clear message to her. It’s my only shot to get close and save the woman I love.” He glanced at his best friend’s anguished face and sighed. “Look, Quill, I don’t know if I’m going to live through this, but if I don’t act now, he’s going to lay his hands on her. I can’t let that happen. I have to protect my partner. I have no doubt every move she’s making is to protect me in return.”
“Why did you have to choose a woman whose ex is the craziest bastard in the whole of the Western US?”
Brendan let out a strained chuckle. “I guess it takes a woman with some serious gumption to be it for me. What can I say?”
Quill quirked his lips. “Okay, bro, go save her. Bring her home with you so she can make my life miserable. Till I get married. I still can’t believe I agreed to that.”
“You know I appreciate our friendship, right?”
“Yeah, I know, but I don’t want to hear you talk like that. You’re jumping in this getaway vehicle alive, and you’re bringing that fiery pain-in-the-neck woman with you.”
“You bet your ass I am.” Brendan pointed at the key fob in one of the Hummer’s front storage cubbies, reminding Quill where he’d put it.
Quill gave a short nod.
Before he could change his mind, Brendan swung open the sturdy driver’s side door, dropped his feet onto the solid concrete of the crescent-shaped terrace, and slammed the door behind him. After a long enough pause for Quill to climb into the driver’s seat, he listened to the Hummer back away. There was no turning back now.
“King,” Marshal clipped out.
“Marshal.” Brendan slowly strolled up to him, ignoring his impressive contingent of guards. “So how would you like to do this? Have a couple of beers first and bro it out?”
Marshal smirked. “I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to come here alone. Couldn’t wait for backup, huh? What, were you afraid I’d fuck her before you could come to her valiant rescue?”
“Something like that.” Brendan tilted his head, adjusting his glasses. “What’s your plan when the FBI gets here? You know I’ve got artillery coming, and you’re not making a break for the border?”
“I’ve got the local police in the palm of my hand. You think you can bring the Feds out here, and it will all be over? Based on what? Your word versus mine. You’ve got nothing—nothing that connects directly back to me anyway. The Feds can’t search my property without a warrant. Even if you somehow convinced them my fiancée was kidnapped to get one, she won’t be anywhere near here when the sirens come blazing. I’ve got a dozen ways I can whisk her away.”
Brendan shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay, let’s say you get away with kidnapping Genevieve. It’s going to be mighty suspicious when I go missing. What then?”
“I’m willing to take that risk. No body, no case. You shouldn’t have offered yourself up as bait. Once I get rid of you, all obstacles are clear. Manning Cole will back off so that he doesn’t get burned, and I’ll remain the law.”
Brendan rocked back on his heels, shooting Marshal a goading grin. “All obstacles, huh? It’s a pretty big obstacle to have your fiancée in love with another man, isn’t it? Better solder on the next ring. Last one I saw flew twenty stories over a rail.”
The vein in the side of Marshal’s neck bulged. “You wimpy little office prick. I’m going to enjoy snapping you in half in front of her.”
Brendan split his grin even wider. “You really think she’ll get over me just because I’m dead?”
“Money and power talk, King. You’re the PG version, and I’m sure she thought twisting you around her finger was a fun distraction, but Genevieve’s all fire. She’d have gotten bored with you in a month.”
“I was worried about that too, but then I discovered her fire brings out mine.”
A cavalier snicker trickled out of Marshal. “Well, lover boy, it’s clear you can’t handle it then since her fire is about to be the death of you.” He motioned his hand toward a set of French patio doors. “Let’s go visit my girl, shall we? I’ll enjoy seeing the look on her face while she watches you burn.”
Brendan’s skin broke out in a cold sweat, his pulse quickening to a sprint. Am I about to die? He puffed out a breath. Stop that, Brendan. You’ve got this. If you believe you’re going to die, you will.
