Page 118 of Touch of Hate

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Page 118 of Touch of Hate

“God doesn’t hear you because he doesn’t hear liars who defy their elders.”

I wonder if God heard him screech when River cut his balls off. I can only smile at the reminder.

A deep breath brings me back to the present, where I wheel the bag down the hall and into the elevator. I doubt anything but a skeleton crew is on duty at this time of the morning, except in the casino on the ground floor.

We don’t cross paths with anyone before reaching the door leading to the garage, where the Jeep is where I left it last night.

That doesn’t mean my head’s not on a swivel, of course, constantly on the lookout for trouble. I scan our surroundings, then check to be sure nobody’s lying in wait inside the car before opening the door. Scarlet’s quick to climb in, her features pinched, and her eyes narrowed. She might be more focused than I am.

Once we’re out of the garage and traveling down a much quieter Virginia Street—but not empty, not even close—I blow out a big breath that better centers me. So close now. There’s no turning back now.

“Stay close to me at all times.” My gaze slides to her.

Her hands are clasped between her thighs, which bounce slightly, letting me know she is nervous. “Understood?”

“Yes. Of course.” She blurts out a shaky, high-pitched laugh. “Where else would I go?”

“Just making sure we’re on the same page. I don’t want you slipping out of my sight or reach.”

“Are we, though? I still don’t know what you expect to do when we get there or what you expect me to do. I don’t plan on running away or letting anyone touch me, but I don’t know the plan. Everything will be okay as long as I know what’s going on.”

True. I guess she needs to know what River and I cooked up.

“Christian gave us the code for the front gate, so there’s no need to wait for a guard to open it. We’ll park roughly a quarter mile from the gate to lower the chance of being noticed.”

“Okay.”

I’ve already been through it in my head, visualizing the Google images and seeing myself walking the grounds. “The first building on the right is the guardhouse. A single guard should be on post there. I can take him out and confiscate his weapon before we move further into the compound.”

With a glance her way, I ask a question I should already know the answer to. “Do you know how to use a gun?”

A stupid question, but at least it has the effect of breaking the tension.

“Do you know who my father is? What do you think?”

There’s my fierce queen. “I wanted to be sure. If it makes you feel better, you can take the guard’s gun, and I’ll use what we find in the arsenal. That’s the square shed behind the guardhouse.”

“Maybe you should keep it.” She shrugs when I look her way. “Using a gun is one thing, but actually having to shoot somebody? I’m not sure I could do that. I’m not a killer.”

It’s a total knee-jerk reflex sort of thing, the way my hackles rise at her apprehension. “Either way, you’ll need to arm yourself. I won’t have you going around unarmed. And I might need you to cover me.”

She’s breathing too fast. Too hard.

Fuck. This was a mistake. I can’t have panic attacks getting in the way.

Rather than drive the last mile through the patch of flat, empty nothing between us and the compound, I pull to the side of the road and turn in my seat.

“I know what I’m doing. Follow my lead and act decisively. No hesitating. I need you to trust me. I wouldn’t put you in danger without knowing the risk associated.”

She nods, gulping. “It’s just that I—”

“No.” It’s almost a bark, and it has the power to make her jump. “You can do this. I know you have it in you. Do you think I’d bring you along if you couldn’t take care of yourself? I need a second pair of eyes behind my head. We’re a team, and I trust you.”

Her wide, trusting blue eyes search my face like she’s hoping I’ll change my mind at the last moment.

That’s not going to happen, and my steady gaze conveys this.

She sighs softly before stiffening her spine, her chin lifting almost defiantly. “Got it.”




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