He growls, “I didn’t give you away, malyutka.”
“You sure as hell didn’t keep me.”
“Didn’t I?”
The emotion making me misty-eyed and weak-kneed evaporates abruptly, leaving me furious. I whirl around and glare at him.
“I have no interest in playing word games with you. Or mind games, for that matter. The answer is no, you didn’t fucking keep me. You put me onto a plane and shipped me off like cargo!”
His gaze rakes over me, as hot as coals. He takes in my expression and my dress in one swift, hungry look, then reaches out and grabs me.
He drags me against his chest and crushes his mouth to mine.
All the fight drains out of me like somebody pulled a plug.
I sag against him, kissing him back with desperation. His smell, his taste, his heat—how did I ever survive even a day without all this?
“I never let you go,” he says gruffly, his mouth moving against my bruised lips. “Not for a goddamn second. You were with me all the time, haunting me with that smart mouth and those beautiful eyes and that heartbreaking smile that kills me every time I see it. I didn’t last a week before I made the first trip here.”
“Wait, what?” I blink up at him, confused. “You were here? I never saw you.”
“That’s because you were asleep.”
After a moment of astonishment, I start to laugh. “You broke into my bedroom again?”
“The last time that will ever happen.”
The voice, low and lethal, comes from our right.
We look over and see Spider standing at the door.
He’s holding a gun.
I freeze in horror. I taste ashes in my mouth. Beneath my dress, my scar tingles and turns hot, like it just caught fire.
I wonder for a split second how he has a gun when everyone else was searched, realizing just as quickly that not only would security have cleared Declan’s personal bodyguard, but he probably carried extra weapons for the occasion.
Mal’s entire body has fallen perfectly still.
Spider gestures with the gun. “Riley, move away from him.”
“No.”
His furious gaze never moves from Mal’s face. “Do it. Now. I don’t want a repeat of last time.”
Shaking all over, I still manage to keep my voice even. “You’re not going to shoot him. Put the gun down and walk out.”
His laugh is short and hard. “He might’ve promised you he wouldn’t kill me, but the reverse isn’t true. Get your ass away from him right now.”
In a low, deadly rumble, Mal says, “Speak to her like that again, and I’ll happily break my promise.”
“Fuck you.”
Spider’s voice is loud and full of hatred. It echoes off the tile walls.
In the ballroom, the music is still going strong. A cheer goes up. Passing by the hallway outside, a woman laughs. She sounds drunk.
Mal releases me, moving carefully. He pushes me behind him and stands facing Spider, holding me back when I try to move to get between them.
Panic claws its way up my throat. “Spider, please! Please don’t do this! You can’t do this! I’m—”
“I don’t want to hear how you’re in love with him,” he snaps.
“No, listen to me—”
“Get the fuck away from her. Walk toward the door. We’re going to do this outside, for everyone to see. You deserve a public execution. The Hangman should die with an audience.”
Pushing me back, Mal takes a step forward.
Red pulses at the edges of my vision. My panic is so total, I can see the blood flowing through my own veins.
I don’t understand why he’s listening to Spider, why he’s following him out the bathroom door. I stumble after them, shouting for them to stop. The music drowns out my cries.
Then we’re pushing through the crowd on the dance floor. People pull away, startled. Someone sees Spider’s gun and screams.
The band stops playing. The guy on bass guitar realizes it last, plucking away until finally he notices he’s the only one jamming and looks up, blinking in surprise.
Then, except for the roar of my pulse in my ears, there’s silence.
I don’t know where Sloane or Declan are. I don’t know what anyone else is doing. I can only focus on Spider standing ten feet away from Mal in the middle of the dance floor, pointing the gun at his head.
I gather myself, take a deep breath, and say forcefully, “Spider, put that gun down right this minute!”
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot this Russian pig, Riley!”