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Samantha chokes out a laugh. “I’m someone’s assignment now?”

He ignores her, sips his coffee, and focuses his attention on me. “Go get some fresh air. I’ve got this.”

When I hesitate, he makes it clear that this is not up for negotiation with a single look I’m not arrogant enough to disregard.

Samantha

This has gone from bad to worse. Not only did my anger take control of my tongue, but Mick was a pushover compared to this guy. It’s like flirting with a lump of stone.

“Are you going to try to convert me too?”

He glances at me over the top of his coffee cup. “No.”

My eyebrows hike as I repeat his answer. “No?Why not?”

“You’re not ready for the truth.”

“How do you know?”

He stretches out his hand, eyes fixed on the pale groove where his wedding ring used to be—the one he’s been hiding with makeup. His jaw tightens. Then, just as quickly, he drops his hand and shifts gears without warning. “You should take better care of your weapon.”

I scrunch my nose up at him, forgetting I’m trying to win him over. “What?”

He flexes his hand before answering me. “You haven’t fired it since you took it to a range three years ago.”

“How would you kno—” I slam my mouth shut before I give away any more than I already have.

I have no interest in talking any more than I have, so I resolve not to complain about the awkward angle my body is in and stare straight ahead, waiting for thefemalemember of Hightower to arrive.

Out of habit, I add up the amount of money in my various accounts. Usually, it soothes me. Each one was opened under a different name, in a different state, tied to a different story I spun. I stayed in luxury hotels, wore designer clothes, ate five-star meals—all on someone else’s dime. But now, thanks to Mick, those accounts have names and faces. All willing, sure, but all chumps. I told them what they wanted to hear, played whatever role got the job done.

A thump on the door jars me out of my reflection and draws my focus to the door. “Open up, Luke. It’s humid, and I need food.”

Luke?Not Carl? Why the name change?

He mutters under his breath, but he opens the door, and we both assess the woman who steps inside. I eye her as Mona has taught me to whenever another woman is present.

Don’t think you can be friends with other girls, Samantha. If she’s pretty, she’s your competition. If she’s ugly, you can manipulate her into doing things for you.

Remember. Always take care of yourself. No one else will do it.

My guard stays up as I examine her, trying to decide whether she’s a possible ally.

She’s petite and pretty—dark hair and eyes, high cheekbones—but she carries herself with too much confidence to give me hope I can manipulate her.

Adena looks me over, and I hold her steely gaze. She doesn’t blink. Whatever her story is, she isnotsomeone who is likely to risk herself on my account.

Her eyes move back to the guy, and I catch the tiniest of inhales and a widening of her eyes as she does. “You handcuffed her?”

He shakes his head as he rises to his feet. “Our aquatic friend.”

“Well, get them off her. I need to talk to her.”

Small mercy, he goes in search of Mick, leaving me alone with the tiny woman. She spares me a single glance then goes into the kitchen. “You got food, right?”

I nod, not sure what else to say to her.

She’s obviously ravenous because the second she locates the bag of baked goods, she grabs two pastries, starts eating them standing in the kitchen while gawking at me, and has just about demolished one before Carl slash Luke returns with the key.