Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet

“Not when you’re a Golden Gloves champion boxer,” Donovan explained.

Michael shoved Eric to the side. “And these dipshits fled the scene.”

Donovan gave him a stern look. “He would have gone up for a good stretch either way.”

“And when this guy came to us,” Eric continued, “he knew everything about banks.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “Said he could get us in and out, told us what to take and what to leave, how to avoid the cops, everything.”

“Then he set up every job to make it look completely random,” Donovan said.

“So, who is this guy?” I asked, hoping they’d tell me.

A slow grin spread across Donovan’s face. “I’m going to a lot of trouble to keep your ass alive and unharmed. The last thing I’m going to do is feed you to the wolf.”

“But he works at the bank you robbed today, right? That’s how he knew about the shipment.”

“Yeah,” Michael said with a wink, but he was lying. I could feel it as easily as I could feel cool breeze on a hot summer day.

“Thing is, I don’t think it was going to stop here. I think he was going to force us to hit one more bank. He’s been talking about it for a while. When we told him it couldn’t be done, he said he had a guy on the inside. The fact that you made us basically saved our asses.”

“We’re out,” Michael said, a smile playing on his mouth. The same mouth that smirked more often than not, so the smile was nice. Genuine.

Eric was at my back then, too close as usual as he bent over me. “You saved us from ever having to do this again. There’s no way he can force us to continue now.”

“We’re off to Mexico anyway,” Donovan said. “This just seals the deal.”

“Not for me, it doesn’t.” We turned as the blond strode in, his movements sharp with anger. “This guy had no idea who I was. That I was even involved.” There was something odd about his anger. He wasn’t being completely honest, I just couldn’t quite figure out which part he was lying about.

“He still doesn’t,” Eric said.

“But she’s seen my face. You insisted on it, remember?”

Donovan grabbed him by the collar, clearly as sick of his whining as I was. “You were the one who wanted in on this. We stick to the plan.”

“Since when did the plan involve taking a hostage?”

“I improvised,” Donovan said, pushing him away. Then he turned to me with another grin. “How much time do we have until you turn us in?”

Oh, they really were leaving. And they knew I would have to turn them in. I was a little stunned no one was trying to kill me. “As long as it takes me to get free.”

He frowned in confusion, so I showed my wrists. The next grin that crept across his face could only be described as wolfish. “I can’t make any promises once you’re tied up.”

I smiled. If Donovan was anything, it was a gentleman. A scruffy, vagabond gentleman, but a gentleman nonetheless. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

15

Your existence gives me a headache.

Go stand over there.

—T-SHIRT

Twenty minutes later, I found myself hog-tied in a basement-level room in the asylum. Donovan didn’t want to take the chance that one of his club members would come to the house and find me all tied up and helpless, so the three of them led me over to the asylum and down a dilapidated staircase. Eric found a chair, and the tying commenced. Or, well, the taping. They had no rope, so they brought out the duct tape. Men had such a thing for duct tape.

Eric bent over the back of the chair and kissed my neck. “See you on the flip side, gorgeous. Don’t go breaking into anything I wouldn’t.”

I smiled and nuzzled him between my head and shoulder. He was a good kid. And sexy as all get out. This was such a bad position for someone like me to be in. Tied up and helpless with three hot guys vying for my attention. I totally needed to get out more.

He nibbled my earlobe a bit, then left before I could even say good-bye.

Michael offered me that cool smirk he carried with such style and bent to kiss my cheek. “I have a feeling we’ll meet again,” he said before saluting and heading away.

And that left me alone with Donovan.

He kneeled in front of me, his face quite handsome in the low light that streamed in from a single high window. He wrapped both arms around my waist and wedged in between my legs. “You’re a brave woman,” he said, his smile genuine.

I wanted to tell him about Artemis, because before she died, she had been his dog. I wanted him to know that she was with me and doing well, that she’d saved my life at least twice already, but I had no idea how he’d take that. He probably thought I was enough of a freak without bringing his departed dog into the picture, so I decided to keep that bit of info to myself for the time being.

“You’re really going to Mexico?” I asked.

“To start with. Who knows where we’ll end up, but things are getting too dicey around here.” He rubbed my leg with one hand, his fingers getting dangerously close to the crest between my legs, otherwise known as Virginia. “You could go with us,” he said without looking up at me.

He was dead serious, and I knew he’d let me come in a heartbeat if I wanted to. But how could I possibly leave? Some women were the drop-everything-and-run-off-to-Mexico kind of girls, but I was not. I had responsibilities. And a case to solve. And demons after my ass. Come to think of it, running didn’t sound like such a bad idea.