Page 10

Boone grinned but didn’t answer. Even as the Boss of one of the most notorious Cosa Nostra families in the United States, Midnight could be a fucking drama queen.

Boone wanted to laugh but instead kept his gun trained on the door. He wasn’t about to let this kingpin wannabe goad him into wasting bullets.

“I hope that bitch I shot three years ago suffered and died in agony. Her blood is on your hands, not mine. You should have kept your nose and your team out of Family business.”

A soft hand gripped his arm. “What are we going to do?” Tildi whispered. He didn’t know what shook more, her hand or her voice.

“Hold on, I need my phone,” Boone said, reaching inside the jacket she now wore to retrieve the phone from the inside pocket. The back of his hand brushed her breast when he pulled out his phone, and she shivered. He refused to question why.

He thumbed the button for Dutch, one of the men who’d served with him on the black ops team and now worked on the ranch. Along with Grifter, another of his men turned cowboy, Dutch waited for Boone in an ocean-crossing yacht offshore. He picked up on the first ring.

“Status?” Dutch asked.

“Things didn’t go as planned. I ran into an unexpected complication. I need extraction ASAP. We’re heading to the rendezvous point now. Be ready because we might need cover.”

“Wait, we?” Dutch asked. “Who the fuck is we?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

He was answered with a long pause and a heavy sigh. Finally, Dutch growled, “Roger that. Proceeding to the rendezvous. Will you need medical when you get here?”

“Maybe. Be ready, just in case. My passenger will need tending.”

“Come again?”

“You heard me. Just be there before I am and be ready for anything.”

“Roger that. On our way.”

He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back in the pocket of his jacket.

“Okay, we’re going to have to work together here,” he told Tildi. Pulling out his Glock, he asked, “Have you ever shot a gun before?”

Eyes huge, she stared at the weapon and shook her head. “No. Never.”

Perfect.

It would be his luck today to get the door rigged with the C4 charge without incident, only to be shot in the back by a cute, twitchy civilian who’d never held a gun.

He shifted to Plan B.

Grabbing the stun wand, he handed that to her instead. “Okay, I want you to stand there,” he said, pointing to the wall beside the door. “Hopefully, you won’t have to do anything, but if someone comes through that door, you zap them with this wand. Got me?”

“O-okay,” she said, nodding.

When she didn’t stop nodding, his heart started to thaw. It had been frozen for the past three years, ever since he’d fucked up and caused one of his people to get shot.

Tildi stood there shivering with nothing but determination flashing in her eyes. She was trying to be strong, even after all she’d been through. He cupped his hand around her cheek and smiled. “We’re getting out of here safely. Both of us. I’m gonna take care of you, babygirl. You can trust me.”

Her eyes dilated at his words. That was interesting. He packed it away for later.

She squatted beside Moretti’s corpse as she crossed the room and whispered, “I still don’t like you.”

“Tildi, get where I told you,” Boone snapped.

Pausing only long enough to shock Moretti’s body with the weapon, she found her spot and assumed a ready stance, stun wand held high.

Boone’s lips twitched again. His little survivor had a streak of vengeance in her.