Page 112 of Defending You

He narrowed his eyes, not liking her answer.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” Asher said. “I promise.”

“Be careful. These people?—”

“That’s enough.” Gagnon swiveled, taking the phone with him. “As you can hear, she’s alive and well. I’ll tell my men to stand down. You have five minutes to get to the gate. Bring the SD card with you.”

Souza backed away but didn’t return his knife to its sheath. Probably hoping he’d get the chance to use it.

She shifted to watch Gagnon.

“You must think I’m an idiot.” He hadn’t taken the phone off speaker, so Asher’s answer rang through the room. “The card is in a safe place. You’ll get it when Cici is too.”

“Don’t make me hurt her again.” Gagnon tapped on his phone and read. What was he doing? Checking his texts?

“If you do,” Asher said, “I’ll send one of the files on the SD card to the FBI. Just one. We’ll start with Maxwell Pierce’s.”

Souza’s gaze snapped to Gagnon.

“Pierce’s fall from grace will be complete and public,” Asher said, “in light of all his community activism. I suspect he’ll take Souza down with him.”

The guard’s eyebrows hiked, obviously surprised Asher knew his name.

His cheeks flushed, his eyes narrowing. Ifdeadly threathad a face, Souza wore it.

Gagnon waved Souza down, but by the degrees Souza relaxed—somewhere around zero—he wasn’t buying Gagnon’s casual reassurance.

“It’ll definitely be a hitch in the road for the Fourth Hood.” Asher’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Though I’m sure some other gang will step in to continue their work. Who knows, Wendall? Maybe you’ll survive.”

“If you release a single iota of what’s on that SD card?—”

“Keep your hands off Cici, then, and we won’t have a problem. Tell your men to stand down. I don’t want to have to take out any more. When I get to the gate, I expect Cici to be safe and ready to move. And beableto move.”

“You expect me to just hand her over without getting the SD card?”

“I’ll give you the card.”

Gagnon glared at the phone. “But of course you’ve copied all the information off it.”

“What do you think, Wendall? You’re the king of leverage. What would you do?”

Gagnon should be nervous. He should be shaking in his boots. But he wasn’t. He was angry, obviously, because this hadn’t gone as planned.

But he wasn’t defeated. He was calculating.

Here was a man who’d thrived for decades with money collected from bribing dangerous, powerful people. He’d said he had contingency plans. Cici guessed he was using one even now.

“Your problem,” Asher said through the phone, “is that you think you’ve got all the power, but the truth is, you aren’t holding any cards at all.”

“You may be right. I look forward to speaking with you face-to-face.” Gagnon ended the call, dropped his phone on the desk, and smiled that terrible smile.

Cici’s stomach dropped through the concrete floor. He was up to something, and Asher was about to find out what.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Asher was still crouched behind the tree, watching for Gagnon’s men.

Not only had they not found him, he saw no movement anywhere. As if they’d given up, or Gagnon had called them back.