Page 107 of The Rebel Billionaire

I fell on my ass at his feet and looked up to see Bruce Hayward standing above me, a gun in his hand, the barrel pointed at mychest.

"You fucking bitch," he spat out, his eyes wide and wild, the hand holding the gunshaking.

Notgood.

I assumed he was here to shoot me, but if he wasn't, I didn't want to be hit accidentally because he couldn't keep his handsteady.

My first instinct was to argue with him, but that would be stupid. As unhinged as he was, I didn't need to push him anyfurther.

I needed to calm him down if I wanted a chance to get away. The panic button was in my purse. Which was in thekitchen.

Stupid, stupidCharlie.

Marissa was in jail and everything had been quiet. I'd thought Iwassafe.

Suddenly, it occurred to me—my alarm was on and the doors werelocked.

"How did you get in?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level and non-confrontational.

Hayward sneered down at me. "You left the door unlocked while you were getting your groceries. I snuck in and hid in your laundry room. Now, we're locked in together. Just youandme."

"What are you goingtodo?"

I didn't really want to know what Bruce Hayward had planned for me. Still, keeping him talking was a better option than whatever was going to happen when hewasdone.

"I haven't decided," he said. "I was thinking aboutkillingyou."

"Any chance I can talk you out of that?"Isaid.

Hayward laughed, high-pitched and grating, the gun in his hand wobbling back and forth as his body shook withamusement.

"My wife left me today, had me served with divorce papers. My kids won't speak to me. My lawyer says I'm going to jail for a long time. What does it matter if I kill you? You think a few more years is anything on top of what I'mlookingat?"

"I think murder one is an entirely different thing than a few counts of white-collarcrime."

Another unhinged fit of laughter. "It's not a few counts of white-collar crime. That's whatyouuncovered. Once the FBI starteddigging—"

"Look, I'm sorry," I lied. "I didn't realize it would be this bad. If there's anything Icando—"

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid little bitch. You and your family, you think you run the goddamned world. Think you're better than everyone else. So I was bending the law here and there—everyone does it. Everyone except you and your perfect fuckingbrother.

"But you had to turn me in, do the right thing, and ruin my fucking life. And now you think I'm gonna buy your fake offer to help me out? Fuck that. When I'm done with you, you and your brother will never forget what you didtome."

That gun swinging back and forth was not good. Hayward was going to shoot me. Either on purpose, or because he lost his temper, or maybe his fingerwouldslip.

It didn'tmatter.

The shot was coming unless I could figure out a way to escape him. Or call for help. My headphones had been yanked out of my ears when he grabbed my hair, but my phone was still in my back pocket, pinned beneath me. And on my phone was the security app Evers hadinstalled.

There was no way I could pull the phone out and call for help, but if I could turn it on, I might be able to press the app and hit the built-in panicbutton.

It was a long shot, but it was allIhad.

Carefully, I slid one hand beneath me and tugged out the phone, leaving it hidden behindmyback.

Hayward started ranting about his son taking over his company, calling him an ungratefulbastard.

Good. The longer he raved about his problems, the more time I had to get myself outofthis.