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I want to look away but can't. The man I thought was an undercover cop dispatches Marshall with the practiced efficiency of someone who has killed before. When it's done, Flynn—no, it’s Flint—lets the body slump to the ground, his shoulders heaving with controlled breaths.

“Is… is he dead…?” My entire body is shaking.

“Yes.”

The pieces click together with devastating clarity. I've been sleeping with, falling for, a man whose family once controlled Boston's criminal underground. A man who just murdered someone in cold blood right in front of me.

My legs give out and I slide down the wall, unable to process the horror of what I've witnessed. The sound draws Flint's attention. When he turns to face me, his blue eyes, the ones that have looked at me with such warmth and desire, are cold and empty. For the first time, I see him clearly for what he is—not a protector, but a predator.

Almost immediately, that look is gone, replaced with concern. "Lucy…" He takes a step toward me.

I scramble up, knowing I need to escape. "You lied to me.”

"Lucy, we need to leave.” He reaches out for me.

"Stay back! You're not a cop. You're… you're one of them."

"I'm nothing like the Keans." His jaw tightens. "They murdered my family."

“That doesn’t give you the right?—”

“Doesn’t it?” I see the flash of the monster again.

I don't wait to hear more. Terror propels me forward and I bolt toward the street. I only make it a few steps before strong arms catch me from behind.

"Let me go!" I thrash against his grip.

"Lucy, stop." His voice is urgent in my ear. "Marshall's men will be looking for him soon. We need to leave. Now."

"We?" I try to wrench free. "There is no we. You used me!"

"I protected you." His grip tightens. "And right now, I'm trying to keep you alive. Let me get you somewhere safe. Then you can hate me all you want."

“You’ll just kill me too.” Instinct takes over. The self-defense moves Flint taught me flash through my mind. I drive my elbow back into his solar plexus, just like he showed me. His grip loosens with a grunt of surprise. I twist away, using my momentum to break free.

"Lucy, stop!" His voice carries that commanding tone that used to make me feel safe. Now it terrifies me.

I sprint up the street, but he recovers quickly. His footsteps thunder behind me. Before I can reach the pub's front entrance, he catches me again, spinning me to face him.

"The Keans will kill you," he growls, pinning my arms. "You think they won't find out you’re the same woman I saved from his men? That you were the woman who lured Marshall to his death?”

“I did not.”Did I?Was Flint just using me to lure Marshall?

“No, but they’ll think you did.”

"Let me go!" I struggle against his iron grip. "I trusted you!"

"And I've kept you safe." His blue eyes bore into mine, desperate. "Why do you think I followed you that first night? Why I kept warning you away from the Keans? They're murderers, Lucy. They killed my parents.”

"And you just killed a man!" I try to knee him like he taught me, but he blocks it easily.

"Marshall was dirty. You know that. He as much as admitted to helping kill my family." His voice cracks with raw pain. "But right now, that doesn't matter. His body will be found and someone in the bar will tell them how he left with a blonde woman."

I shake my head, fighting back tears. "You're lying. You've been lying this whole time."

"Only my name." His grip gentles but doesn't release. "But not about the danger. Not about wanting to protect you. Lucy, please. Let me get you somewhere safe. After that, you don’t have to see me. But right now, I'm your only chance at surviving the night."

The worst part is, I know he's right. I saw Marshall's face. I heard his confession. If the Keans find out I witnessed his death… if they put together I was the woman in the alley with the men Flint beat up… if they learn I’ve been investigating them… I’m a dead woman. But to go with Flint? He’s a part of them.