Chapter 41
FORTY-ONE
brIAR
“You don’t have to do this,” I say as Angela herds me back, closing the door behind her.
The deadbolt sliding shut is gunshot—no pun intended—loud in the quiet apartment.
She’s tall and slender, her blonde hair pulled back into a neat chignon, and the sunglasses on her face don’t hide the bruising around her black eye. She moves carefully, as though she’s protecting her ribs, but her grip on the gun is steady.
“I don’t have much time,” she says. “So I need you to sit down, shut up, and listen to me.”
Maybe I could overpower her, especially considering she’s hurt.
But I’ve seen this woman endure things that would break me, so I know that even though she appears weak, she’s anything but.
“Okay,” I say calmly, not loving the gun pointed in my direction, but doing my best to ignore it.
“Is there anyone else in the apartment?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Just the cats.”
She doesn’t move, but I have the feeling that her gaze is flicking around the room, assessing if I’m telling the truth.
Then she seems to decide that I am.
“Sit.” She gestures to the barstool with her gun.
I sit and the silence stretches as we just look at each other.
Then she walks over to me, slides her hand into her pocket. “Here,” she mutters. “Use this. It’ll keep you and the other girl safe.”
“I don’t understand.”
A sigh as she sets the envelope on the counter. “I’m supposed to use the distraction they created by taking her to eliminate the problem you present.”
Fear skitters up my spine.
“But I’ve been doing a lot of things I shouldn’t these last few months. That—” A nod to the envelope. “That will damage them enough they’ll need to close ranks and regroup.”
“How long until they come after me and Brooks and my friends again?”
“They’ll decide it’s not worth the trouble. There are plenty of easier targets with fewer resources now that the personal side has been settled.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t expect you to,” she says. “But I’m doing what I can—I made it so Brooks is back in your life and Chrissy’s baby will be safe—” She breaks off.
My heart starts pounding. “What does Chrissy have to do with me?”
Something passes over her face and I suck in a breath.
“Wait,” I whisper, the information clicking into place. “You’re that Angela?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re Angela Rosseau? Jean-Michel’s ex, Chrissy’s mom—” I shake my head. “But you’re crazy.”
She jerks and I clamp my mouth closed.
Probably shouldn’t call the woman pointing a gun at me crazy.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
But she doesn’t squeeze the trigger and prove that point. Instead, she laughs softly. “Yeah, Briar. I’m definitely crazy.”
“Meow.”
“Buttercup,” I begin. “She—”
But Angela just tucks the gun into the waistband of her jeans, crouches down and scratches Buttercup—then Tulip, when she comes over—behind their ears.
“How did you make sure Brooks was back in my life?”
Her gaze comes to mine and I wish I could see through the dark lenses of her glasses. “He’s one of the good ones.” A sigh as she straightens. “There aren’t too many of those around. I needed to make it right—for both of you.”
“I’m just—”
“One of the good ones too,” she says softly.
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.” Another nod to the envelope. “Use it,” she says. “No matter how much you don’t want to.”
She turns toward the door and I find myself blurting, “They can help you—Pascal and Brooks.”
Still. God, she’s so freaking still.
Then she pushes her glasses to the top of her head and our gazes collide.
Fuck, that bruise around her eye is awful.
“No one can help me,” she murmurs.
“I—”
“Bermuda,” she says.
“What?”
“That’s when I knew you were one of the good ones.”
I suck in another breath, remember the little girl I’d returned to her parents…and the beating I received for not following through with my orders to get her onto the boat that would have taken her who knew where for who knew what.
Okay, I knew what would happen to her.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper. “That’s why you—”
Angela had come with me on the next few missions and after that the tasks I was assigned had changed. No more close calls with pervy men they needed blackmail material for. No more kids or women.
There’s a knock and a whir, the lock disengaging.
Her head whips toward the door as it slams into the deadbolt and she moves faster than I thought possible, grabbing a chair and jamming it under the handle.
Yeah, I so wouldn’t have been able to disarm her.
The door pulls back then slams open again, meeting the resistance of the deadbolt—and now the chair.
“Briar!” I hear Brooks shout from the other side.
“I’m okay!” I call and stand up.
But freeze, when the gun points my way again.
“Stay there,” she says quietly as the door starts reverberating, Brooks trying to break through. I freeze, sit back down, and she turns for the hall as the noise becomes almost deafening.
That door isn’t going to hold much longer.
“Angela!” I call.
Her eyes come to mine.
“How did you know Brooks and I would work it out?”
A pregnant pause.
“True love,” she says just before the chair splinters, the deadbolt gives way, and Brooks shoves his way through the opening, Pascal’s team pushing through behind him.
He rushes over to me.
They spot her and give chase—
But she’s already sprinting down the hall, disappearing into the bedroom.
And by the time they make it through that locked door, then through the one into the bathroom, she’s given Pascal a run for his money and disappeared.
Leaving nothing but a series of broken doors, an open skylight, and…
Our salvation on the counter.