Page 214 of Midnight Curfew

Not with Anna-Katherine here. They wouldn’t want witnesses, and I’m the only one who knows where the treasure is.

I pause, though, realizing he might not care. They’re used to doing without and have survived worse, and he might be willing to do anything to be free of me. Finally.

If he can’t have the treasure, at least he can have that.

Raising my eyes, I watch his siblings stand like marble columns in the background, his head tilting to the side.

He came looking for me.

They’re all here for me.

I try to steel my voice, but it comes out strained. “How much pain do you think I can take?” I ask. “Wanna see?”

He brutalized my heart years ago. I can survive anything now.

He steps closer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Perfect night,” I go on, looking around at the empty road I just drove down, most of the homes vacated for the season. “Have to hand it to you. Lockdown. Cops are occupied. No cameras out here.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he says again.

“So I can leave?”

“No.”

Motherfucker.

I glance at Anna-Katherine, seeing she’s returned to her seat in the car, out of the rain. She’s not worried about Dallas. She loves his family.

She doesn’t know that they hate me and aren’t going to let me leave in one piece unless I give them back their shit.

I smile snidely. “You couldn’t just behave, could you?” I spit out. “You were always too dumb for your own good. You don’t understand that I’m the only ally you have. You’ll never get the treasure back, but at least you were dealing with me instead of my father.”

I walk up to him, rubbing my groin for him. “And you like dealing with me, don’t you, Swamp Rat?”

I shove his face to the side, wiping that fucking smirk off it, but a full-on smile appears as he stares at the ground.

“Dallas, are you really sure you want this guy?” Iron Jaeger gripes.

Dallas rubs his jaw. “Oh, yeah.”

He turns to face me, and I whip around, pulling open my dented door.

“I’m leaving.”

He hits the door, and it flies out of my hand. “You’re never leaving,” he growls. “You’re not leaving when I have the treasure or in the morning when we’re in my bed. You’re not leaving.”

What the fuck?

I spin around, ramming my hands into his chest, but he doesn’t even break his stance. “Get away from me!”

He grabs me, clenching my neck in one hand and pinning one of my wrists as he presses me to the car.

What the hell does he want from me?

He can go fuck himself, because I call the shots now, and if he’s not going to kill me, then he better watch his back.

Two sets of headlights appear down the road, and Dallas yells at his family, “Head them off!”