He cries out and starts jumping from side to side.

“Get your hands off my purse.”

I let him go and he stumbles backwards. “You’re crazy!” he cries, rushing off.

Yes, yes I am.

I turn and see Dean standing at the bar, smiling over at me. I have to compose myself quickly, because I’m shocked to see him standing there. I gather myself and give him a lighthearted shrug as I take him in. Dean isn’t a bad-looking man. He’s tall, quite well built, and has the darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. His dark brown hair is cut into a buzz cut, and if he were healthy, I’d look twice. But he’s not healthy. His cheeks are hollow, the skin under his eyes is dark, and he’s got clear track marks on his arms.

Junkie.

“You do that to many men?” he continues.

“If I have to,” I say, turning to my drink.

“What brings a girl like you to a place like this?”

Here’s my chance. “My boyfriend dumped me on the side of the road after I found out he put his dick where it didn’t belong, and that place wasn’t me. I confronted him, he got angry and kicked me out. I walked and this was the closest place.”

“What an asshole,” Dean says, sitting down.

Bingo.

“You’re telling me? I mean, what’s wrong with men? Am I that unattractive that he has to go ahead and do that?”

Dean’s eyes scan over me. Then he grins. “You aren’t unattractive, in fact, I think you’re the prettiest girl I ever saw.”

God.

I want to punch him.

“Thanks.” I smile sweetly. “What’s your name?”

“Dean.”

I reach out my hand. “Suzanne.” I am not about to give him my real name.

“Nice to meet you, Suzanne,” he says, curling his fingers around mine and shaking. “Tell me more about this jackass while I buy you another drink.”

“How sweet, and please, call me Susie.”

This is going really well.

* * *

“What a pig!” Dean cries, shaking his head. “Men like that make me want to commit murder.”

I’ve made up a long, horrible story about my boyfriend who dumped me, and Dean has bought every bit of it. Three drinks down and he’s comfortable enough for me to drop Raide’s name. I take a sip of my drink, nodding enthusiastically at the man I really want to hurt. He’s a pig, the fact that he’s sitting here saying how horrible my “boyfriend” is just makes me want to squeeze his throat. Considering he took the life of his girlfriend.

Pig.

“Right?” I cry, throwing my hands up. “What sort of man does that, anyway? I always knew he was bad for me. My sister, she said to me, ‘Susie, that Raide is bad news.’ I should have listened.”

Dean’s face drops, and I want to throw my hands in the air and squeal with delight. He says, “Your boyfriend’s name was Raide?”

“Raide Knox. What sort of name is that anyway?”

Dean’s entire body goes stiff and he mutters, “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

Then he hurries off. Okay, that wasn’t exactly how this was meant to go. I get up and follow him down the dark hall toward the bathroom. I round a corner, where a door swings open and a hand curls around my arm, hauling me into a dark space. The door clicks shut and locks. “Let me go!” I hiss.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Dean.

Shit.

“What are you talking about, I’m just using the bathroom.”

“Who sent you here? Was it the cops?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I cry, squirming.

He slaps me so hard, I see stars. I kick out but because I can’t see him, I miss completely. Before I can reach around for my gun, I feel the barrel of one pressed to my forehead. I freeze and suck in a deep breath. He flicks on a small light and I see he’s got a knife swinging around in his other hand. This is not good.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I—” I need to play this up, so I burst into tears. “I was just trying to get home. He was my b-b-b-b-boyfriend. He left me on the side of the road.”

“You’re lying!” he bellows, shoving the gun harder against my forehead.

“I’m not!” I scream.

Where are York’s men and why haven’t they barged in here by now?

“Scream again, and I’ll blow your brains out. Tell me who you really are.”

“My name is Suzanne,” I sob. “I’m just trying to get home.”

“I don’t believe you,” he hisses. “Now, tell me who you’re working for?”

“I swear,” I whisper.

“Shut up and tell me who the fuck sent you in here?”

“No one, I swear.”

He growls. “Fine, then you’re going to come with me.”

He shifts me around and then opens another door; only it isn’t the one we came through. He shoves me out and we enter a secluded room that’s not in the bar. I don’t understand. I stare at the door, and then back at the room. Dean laughs and shoves the gun into my back, pushing me forward. “Confused?” he chuckles. “It’s a two-door hall. It’s there so no one knows this room is here. And guess what, sweetheart? Only I have the key.”

Crap.

“So as far as anyone knows, you went to the bathroom, but you ain’t comin’ back.”

God. York’s men are probably looking for me, but they’re not going to find me. This room is obviously still connected to the bar, I can only hope they’re covering all the exits. Dean pushes me toward another door. I want to reach for my gun or fight him, but it’s too risky. He’s got two weapons, even if I manage to tackle him, I’m outgunned. I just have to pray York comes to the rescue.

We step into a garage and I see a large SUV sitting right in the middle. Dean reaches into his pocket and I don’t think, I spin and kick out at his shin. He stumbles backwards, cursing loudly. I lunge at him and my fist flies out to connect with his jaw. He bellows in pain and his other hand comes up and tangles in my hair. He tugs me down hard and I scream, trying to reach out for my gun.

Then something plunges into my neck, and my feet go out from beneath me.

With that, my world goes black.

Chapter Twenty-six

I come to with a pounding head.

It takes me a few minutes to blink and get my bearings, that’s when I realize I’m in a poorly lit room that is definitely not York’s. Shit. This is bad; this is really, really bad. I quickly pat myself down and notice all the wires are gone and so is my gun and phone. Oh no, no no no. This is not good. I didn’t even get a damned confession and now I’m stuck here. He’s probably going to kill me and get away with everything.

Just magic.

“You’ve got to be shittin’ me.”

I jerk at the sound of that voice. No. Fucking. Way. I whip my head around to see Raide leaning against the wall, staring at me with a hard expression. He’s battered and bloody, and he doesn’t look good at all. His dark shirt is ripped and hanging off his body in tatters. His jeans are bloodied and his hair is a mess. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.