Chapter 12
Twelve
GENEVIEVE
A fter two hours of playing the role of dutiful fiancée over dinner, Genevieve wanted to scream. A heavy three-carat diamond she hated now occupied her left ring finger, and she’d let Jed slide it on without protest—because why fight him until she actually could? He seemed to conclude she’d accepted her fate in his arms. Like hell! Apparently, she was a better actress than she thought.
Jed led her out of his hotel’s most elegant French restaurant toward the noisy casino floor. She yawned, blinking her eyes awake.
He chuckled. “You behaved well at dinner. Head on upstairs to your room now and get some beauty sleep.”
She nodded, relieved to finally receive his dismissal, no matter how dominant. “Good night, Jed.”
Jed kissed her cheek. “Good night, dove.” He tapped an index finger to her nose. “Until we’re married, that is. Then you’ll move into my penthouse and sleep by my side as promised. Dream of me.”
Genevieve forced a smile. “I will.”
She turned, rolled her eyes, and rounded the corner. Her heels clicked on the brown-and-white marble walkway as she angled for the elevators. A robust drunk man reeking of bourbon bumped into her, pawing his unwelcome hands up the front of her lavender gown. She elbowed him in the ribs, earning a pained yelp from him before accidentally slipping on her white strappy heels.
Killian grabbed her before she face-planted, wedging his body between her and the drunk man. “Are you all right, Ms. Genevieve?”
An adrenaline rush surged through her, tickling her skin. “Yes, I’m fine.”
The drunk man staggered back and swayed, flashing her a toothy smile. Killian snagged the man’s wrist and bent his arm behind his back. The man cried out in agony, writhing and punching to no avail.
“Let me get rid of the vermin and finish punishing his ribs for you, Ms. Genevieve. Would you like me to alert Marshal so he can teach him a proper lesson as well?”
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.”
Killian dipped his head in assent. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Please wait for me here.”
“Of course.” …I won’t! Can I run? She feigned irritation at the man who might actually be her savior while Killian walked him toward the exit. Yeah, right, run in three-inch heels? Why didn’t I wear running shoes? Because Jed would have noticed, that’s why.
“I don’t know, boss,” Roman’s loud voice erupted from around the corner.
“They’re your men,” Jed yelled. “She’s practically the age of a grandma. How did they lose her?”
Genevieve’s face split into a wide grin.
“Find her, Roman. Genevieve can’t know about this. Not a word until Roxy is back in her room.”
Oh my gosh, her mom was amazing. She’d been crafty enough to escape before her own daughter, paving the way to their freedom.
“Lock her up,” Jed bellowed, “throw away the key, and slide her food in through a hole in the wall for all I care. I just need the woman contained until Genevieve signs our marriage license. Once her name is mine and I plant a kid inside her, she’ll never break free. Ace, have someone call the event department and move our wedding up to tomorrow.”
Genevieve glanced at the main entrance’s large golden doors about fifty yards away, straight through a bustling section of slot machines. Could she make it? Past Killian and the guards by the door? Not likely. Every security guard in The Outlaw would know her face and have instructions to capture her if she attempted to escape. She pivoted toward the card tables with plans to blend in with the crowd, peel off her heels, and run for a side door.
“Where are you going, Se?orita Genevieve?”
Mateo! How could she have forgotten about him?
Genevieve beamed an innocent smile. “Why the restroom, of course.” She flicked her wrist toward the ladies’ room sign. “After that long dinner, I can’t wait another minute.”
“I’ll escort you, Se?orita.”
“So thoughtful,” Genevieve forced out through her teeth.
She took her time in the restroom, waiting until a bachelorette party exited and wedged between them. It worked! She reached the casino floor and slid off her heels, tossing them behind a slot machine, only to have Killian wrap a secure hand around her upper arm.
“Ugh,” she groaned. Could she elbow him in the ribs, too?
“Going somewhere, Ms. Genevieve?” Killian flashed her a smug grin.
“Of course not. My feet are just…”
She inhaled a shaky breath. Brendan! No way. He strolled through the main floor of the casino like he owned the place, looking sexy as sin in one of his Brioni suits. Warm tingles prickled every inch of her skin while her stomach tangled with butterflies. He’d come for her. He was incredible—and dead! How long before Brendan’s face appeared on the recognition searches within Luke’s security system?
“Let me go, please, Killian. I’d like to play a few slots before I head upstairs.”
Killian studied her with a disbelieving glare, then shrugged. “Within The Outlaw, the boss’s rules are do whatever you’d like as long as he’s the only straight man you touch.” He winked. “Archer gets a pass.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. “I really needed that distinction.” Goodness, if she was lucky enough to escape, she hoped they didn’t hurt Archer in retaliation.
Killian reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold credit card, handing it to her. Genevieve Marshall was etched across the face in sparkling black letters. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down, clenching her fist. That will never be my name, even if I have to dice with death.
“Thanks,” Genevieve gritted out sweetly.
She went to an ATM to pay for a slot machine ticket and plopped down on a nearby brown-leather stool in front of a classic machine with bars, bells, and cherries. Pretending to study the rules on the screen, Genevieve covertly tracked Brendan as he searched the casino floor. When Killian glanced at his cell phone, she slid off the stool and paced behind Brendan. Quickly snagging his arm, she pulled him behind a set of slot machines featuring Wild West duels.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Genevieve!” Brendan breathed out a sigh of relief, wrapped an arm around her waist, and braced her head against his chest, squeezing her tightly. “Thank god you’re okay. I’m glad you found me. I was looking for your red highlights. It never occurred to me that you’d change your hair.”
“Get out of here now,” Genevieve whispered, pulling back and pinching his jaw between her fingers. “Jed owns this place. He’ll kill you if he finds you in here. What on earth are you thinking? Run!”
“That you’re worth it. There’s no way I’m leaving this casino without you.”
Genevieve pointed toward the exit. “I think you’re worth it too. Which means—hightail it out of here, Brendan. This isn’t a game. You won’t make it out of here with me—alone, you might live.” She shoved at his shoulders. “Go!”
“Well, well, well,” Jed boomed out, sliding around the slot machines with Roman and Killian flanking him. “If it isn’t the CEO super nerd daring to touch what’s mine. Though I disagreed with my men, I kept hearing you were smart. Already proven to be false.” Narrowing his eyes, he growled, “What the hell are you doing in my casino?”
Her chest constricted. No, no, no! If something happened to Brendan, she’d never forgive herself.
Brendan pivoted, crossing his arms and standing firm. She blinked in stunned silence. He truly had lost his mind. Did he not understand the phrase he will kill you ?
Genevieve shook herself out of her trance. “Babe.” She waltzed to Jed’s side. “Just kick him out, and let’s get on with our lives. He’s a nobody.” She tried to ignore Brendan’s face drop while she delivered her carefully orchestrated words and kissed Jed’s cheek.
“Hmm…I quite agree, my dove.” Jed turned his head and placed a possessive kiss on her lips. Not breaking contact with her eyes, he drawled out, “But Mr. King doesn’t seem to think so.” He swiveled back toward Brendan. “So what to do, what to do?”
Jed’s cool confidence might fool some, but Genevieve knew he was insanely jealous just by the thought she might care for Brendan. His threatening gray eyes brewed like a super typhoon was on the horizon .
Brendan didn’t falter his stance. “Marshal, can’t say I’m pleased to meet you.”
Jed snickered. “I see you’ve heard I’m the law, though it seems I’ll have to teach you to believe it. You still haven’t answered my question, office freak. What the fuck are you doing in my casino?”
“I came to check on Genevieve and make sure she’s okay.”
Jed tucked her under his arm. “She’s fine.”
“Yes, Mr. King, I’m fine. You should leave.”
Jed plastered on a mocking grin. “When a woman’s right, she’s right.”
“Those are the first words you’ve said I agree with.” Brendan smiled with equally forced animation. “But regardless, I don’t feel like leaving.” He tilted his head and shrugged. “I don’t think that’s what Genevieve really wants.”
“Of course you don’t.” Jed clenched his jaw. “Just a pathetic man who doesn’t know when he’s lost.” He nodded his chin toward Brendan. “Okay, King, shall we play a game?”
“Name it.”
“Poker. Winner takes all.”
Brendan raised a brow, taking his time to adjust his glasses before responding. “All?”
“Genevieve.”
“That’s up to her, don’t you think?”
Jed brushed a golden-brown curl behind her ear. “What do you think, dove? I beat your chaste ex-boss at poker, and he takes his losses and promises to be on his way?”
Genevieve gnawed on her lip, guiding Jed’s arms around her. “Or he could just leave now.”
An egotistical smirk lit up Jed’s face. “Hear that, King? My Gen is trying to cut your losses, or are you too much of a man for that?”
Brendan somehow delivered a cockier smirk than Jed’s. “ You might be the Marshal, but like you said yourself, I’m the fucking King.”
Genevieve’s jaw dropped open. Oh my god, in any other circumstance, she’d find that line incredibly hot, but she wanted him to live.
Jed’s arms tightened their hold on her, and he snickered menacingly. “Okay, King, then allow me to dethrone you. I’ll gladly sit in the front row when I send your geeky ass to the guillotine.”
Genevieve shimmied out of Jed’s arms and released an impassive sigh. “What are we, boys? Like twelve?” She turned, flirting her fingertips across Jed’s lips. “Let’s go upstairs, babe. Together. Enough of this.”
Jed’s eyes swirled first with desire, followed by envious heat. Though he wanted what she proposed, her obvious motivation to shield Brendan had backfired. The hairs on the back of her nape lifted as he grabbed her wrist and squeezed.
“I’ll take you up on that, dove. After he and I enjoy our little game.” He placed his lips on her ear and whispered, “If you attempt to protect him again, you’ll watch him die.”
Who was really playing poker against Jed? Her or Brendan? She felt like the match had already begun, and it certainly wasn’t about playing cards.
Genevieve shivered, pleading at Jed with her eyes. “Forgive me, babe,” she whispered. “I only meant to free myself of my guilt. Mr. King’s clueless and innocent—he got tangled up in something he shouldn’t have, and it’s my fault. I just want him to walk out of here alive and move on with his life. I swear I feel nothing romantic for him.” She swallowed, nausea pooling in her stomach as she forced out, “I want you and only you.”
Jed braced his forehead against hers, slowly drawing in a breath. “You’ll prove those words to me, dove, but first, lover boy needs a good hard lesson.” His eyes flashed at her in a warning. “Remember what I said I’ll do to him if you attempt to interfere again on his behalf.”
Bang! A flash of bright light stunned her. Genevieve screamed, and another two blasts boomed in combination with blinding flashes.
“Down, boss,” Killian shouted.
A scuffle occurred beside her, and Jed’s fingers lost hold of her wrist. Screams and chaos erupted from people all around.
“Roman,” Jed thundered, “detain him. He’s throwing flash grenades.”
Genevieve swayed, her shoulder slamming into the side of a hard surface. One of the slot machines, perhaps? She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears.
Bang! Flash! Disoriented with dizziness, a horrid ringing in her ears, and white splotches in her eyes, she lost her bearings.
Someone snaked their hand under her free arm and tugged her forward forcefully. Desperate to escape the war zone, she didn’t even fight the pull.
“Run with me,” Brendan rushed out, sounding a million miles away through the pulsing peals in her ears. “There will be more blasts. I’ll guide you.”
“Brendan, you’re doing this!”
Bang! Flash! Bang! Flash!
Brendan weaved them this way and that around what she assumed were slot machines. Casino guests bumped into her, but Brendan never lost hold of her arm. Her eyes clouded like she’d been blinded by the sun while muffled noises filtered in through her numb ears.
“How can you see ?” She stumbled, and Brendan righted her. “How can you hear ?”
“Anti-flash goggles over my glasses,” he sputtered out quickly, “and earplugs.”
She hadn’t really expected him to answer, but true to his character, he had. So cute! Did she really just think that while he exploded flash grenades all around them? This man! He was such a welcome distraction.
Brendan released her arm and grasped her hand. “After we get through the doors and this mass of people, we sprint like our lives depend on it because mine does.”
They broke through the doors, and she ran with everything she had, letting him guide her while they dodged the crowd. Her bare feet hit the cool concrete, and she sucked in desperate breaths of the fresh night air as she forced her legs to comply with their full-on dash.
“Thirty more feet,” Brendan huffed out between breaths. “I parked on a side curb.”
The screams and pounding feet of the other guests slowly dispersed as they made their way down the sidewalk.
Something clanked by her feet, and she staggered, clasping her lavender gown and hiking the hem higher so she wouldn’t trip. “What was that?”
Brendan steadied her and tugged her forward. “The goggles. I shed them.”
“Freeze, se?or, or I’ll shoot.”
Genevieve angled her body behind Brendan and fisted his suit jacket, pushing him forward. “Keep running.”
“What are you doing?” Brendan asked frantically, trying to turn toward her.
She shoved at his back. “Putting myself in the line of fire.”
“What?” he sputtered. “No.”
“Yes,” she shouted. “Keep running. He won’t shoot if I’m in danger. Mateo has strict instructions not to harm me.”
“Mateo?”
“Never mind. Just trust me and get us in the car.” She stumbled over Brendan’s heels and grabbed on for dear life. “Sorry, my eyes and ears are still off-kilter.”
“Almost there.”
“Ouch.” Painful pokes pierced her feet. “ What is that? ”
“Lava rocks in the flower beds. Sorry.”
She powered across the rough stones. “Ow, ow, ow.”
Brendan thudded into an object she prayed was the car. A door ripped open, and he pushed her inside. A few seconds later, another door opened and slammed shut—she assumed the driver’s side.
“Find your seatbelt if you can,” Brendan rushed out before twisting the key and shifting into gear.
“I’m still seeing splotches,” she stammered. “Forget the seatbelt. That’s the least of our worries.”
Brendan accelerated, blasting them forward, and Genevieve froze before desperately gasping in a few panicky breaths. Lights blurred in her peripheral vision as if they were riding Space Mountain on steroids at Disneyland.
Pop, pop, pop . Glass shattered.
A shriek erupted from her lungs. “He’s shooting at us!” Her skin iced over. “Brendan!” No response. “ Brendan , are you alive?”
“Yes, sorry, just concentrating.” He sounded too calm for this to be real. Was she dreaming? “Relax, he’s shooting at me, not you.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” she spat hysterically. “Are you shot?”
“Nope.”
They spiraled around a corner, tires screeching. “Don’t crash.” She clutched the door handle, tensing every muscle in her body. “They’ll capture you if you do.”
Brendan reached out and squeezed her free hand. “It’s okay, Genevieve, you can relax. They can’t catch us now—I’ve got the jump on them. Besides, we don’t have far to go.”
He rounded another corner and squealed the car to an abrupt halt. The driver’s door opened and closed before her car door wrenched open. Police sirens wailed in the distance .
Brendan bent down and grasped her hand. “We need to get inside.”
“Inside where?”
“I need you to trust me.”
“I do, Brendan—with my life and my heart.”
He drew in a startled breath. After a pause, his husky voice whispered, “Damn, I should put my life on the line more often.”
“No, you should not,” Genevieve hissed toward his voice, blinking her eyes to reveal a splotchy version of him. “Never again.”
Brendan chuckled. “Wow, that was a rush. Fastest driving I’ve ever done. Whew.”
OMG, did he enjoy that? Being shot at while burning rubber? She was too shocked to ask. He was way friggin’ crazier than she thought.
He let out a sigh of relief. “Come on.” After tugging her out of the car, he pulled her into his warm embrace. “We’d better get inside before I do get shot.”