Page 114 of Mercenary

“No fucking way,” Kylie snaps back.

“She’s safer with me.”

I eye the pistol I dropped on the floor. Wishing I still held it in my hand. Desperately needing to fire another shot into the ceiling. It’s a blessing I am who I am, that I don’t feel the need to get into a pissing contest or flex my muscles or constantly be at war.

“Stop it,” I say. “The decision’s mine to make.”

And if the earth moved at the exact moment the room falls silent, I couldn’t have been more surprised.

“You don’t understand, Madelyn. By letting me go, he’ll be held accountable to Hayden for breaking a direct order.”

Hayden. I suddenly remember his note.

“God, it’s a game to him. Like a skilled chess master, managing his pawns, maneuvering his king and queen, me the lucky pawn. He anticipated this would happen. That Kylie’d escape. That you’d both be alive and here with me. None of us had any control over this . . . except him.”

“Who Madelyn?” Kylie chokes out, her body tense and her eyes wild.

“Fucking Hayden. That’s who,” Declan growls. Yeah, now they get it. Now they understand how it feels to be in the dark. Manipulated. Played. Used, and they didn’t even know it.

Declan’s fingers tighten over my calf.

“He’s here?” Kylie hisses. “Oh my God. We’ve got to go.”

“No. He’s gone. He brought me here then gave me to Franco. ‘To make amends,’ he told him and his men. To gain their trust in him. Except Franco’s dead . . .”

“Let me get this straight. Hayden knew I was here?”

“As well as Declan.”

I smile. Watch what a man deeply in love will do for his woman.

They both scowl.

“He said I’m about to find out that you’re okay.” Thank God. Because I love my sister. And, Heaven help me, I love the man staring at me like I’ve grown two heads. “He left you a note.”

I swear, Kylie turns three shades of white as I withdraw the folded message from my sweatshirt pocket and offer it to her.

“Read it aloud,” Declan orders.

“Fine.” Kylie quickly unfolds the paper, then reads:

“‘Congratulations. You’re still alive. Cover your tracks. No one can trace this blood-fest back to TORC. Can’t have another screwup, now can we? You, my smart girl, fucked up royally. You’ve risked everything I’ve set in motion. And you’ll pay for it. Better run, far and fast. Because I’m sending in someone special to finish the job. As for your sister, she’s done her part. Dragging her into this was a necessary evil. Leave her with Declan. He’ll protect her—yes, even from me. I need her alive and have a personal assignment for her. Please tell her to brush up on her Italian. Later, Kylie.’”

“The hit is still on,” Declan says. “Go, Kylie. Before it’s too late.”

Kylie sways on her feet. “I can’t. She’s my sister. I love her. She’s the only person I have left . . .”

I stand, limp over to her, and folding myself over her, hug her tightly. “I love you, Kylie. But you’ve got to be strong. Find a way to make that man forgive you. Make amends—he’ll respond to that, right? Do something to save yourself. But for God’s sake, run. And don’t let him or anyone else find you. I’m begging you, go.”

“And leave you with him?” She raises her head and glares at Declan.

“I love him.”

“Madelyn,” I hear Declan grumble. Uncomfortable with me expressing my feelings? Better get used to it, honey.

As for Kylie, she straightens, grabs hold of my shoulders, and shakes me. “Talk about rose-colored glasses. You’re both out of your bleeding minds.”

I shake my head. “You just shot seven men. And you’re questioning me about loving him?”