Oh, hell.

“Please tell me you didn’t have the baby killed, too….”

Another shrug, and a small, callous smile. “I would have, but he wasn’t with her.”

“Does Ruben know?”

She shook her head slowly. “I’m saving the announcement for a special occasion.”

“You’re sick.” I turned my back on her and started down the hall again, but froze at her next words.

“Did you have fun on the west side today? Were you searched for Ruben’s mark?”

I turned slowly. “You…?” I demanded, and her cruel smile grew. “You started the rumors? Is that how you got rid of Tamara?”

She laughed, a brittle, delicate sound. “No, I had her shot. But he watches you too closely for that, so I had to get creative.” Her gaze narrowed on me. “Did anyone find the mark? Because they will keep looking, you know. They won’t let Ruben Cavazos’s spying whore wander in their midst, and when they find the mark, they will kill you.”

“They’ll have to kill me to find the mark,” I corrected, and she shrugged again.

“You’ll be dead either way.”

Eighteen

I didn’t truly relax until I’d closed and locked my office door, locking the rest of the world out in the process. I called Cam from my cell and poured the first shot of whiskey while the phone rang in my ear.

“Liv? Are you all right?” He sounded near panic. I knew how he felt.

I tossed back the whiskey and slammed the shot glass down on my desk, my eyes squeezed shut until the burn in my throat faded. The burn was a relief, even if I only felt it because Michaela had bruised my throat with her grip.

“Yeah. I need a favor.”

“What? Where are you?”

“At my office. Alone. I need you to bring me everything I left at your place. Including my gun. And on the way, can you stop and pick up one of those prepaid phones and have it activated?”

“Do I even want to know why?”

“Probably not.” I poured another shot, and he must have heard me swallow.

“Put the whiskey back in the drawer, Liv,” he said, and over the line I heard a zipper being opened as he packed my stuff into a bag.

“I’m done.” After one more shot. “See you in a few?”

“Be there as soon as I can.”

After that, I called Anne and asked her to send me another five-dollar retainer online, officially hiring me to track whoever wanted her daughter dead. Immediately. She sounded confused, but agreed and assured me that she, her parents and Hadley were all fine. But I wouldn’t let her tell me where they were.

When her payment came through, I printed the receipt and filed it, then exhaled in relief as I stowed the whiskey in my bottom desk drawer. I could now legally and officially tell Cavazos to go fuck himself. With that taken care of, I headed into the bathroom to assess the damage to my face.

My left cheek was turning purple—I’d already suspected as much, based on the reproachful shake of his head Tomas had given me when I’d left. The second bruise forming on my stomach was fainter and less defined, but very tender to the touch.

I’d had worse.

When Cam knocked on the office door, I lowered my shirt and let him in. He took one look at my face and dropped his duffel on the couch to take my chin in hand. “That black-hearted bastard… I’m going to break every tooth in his head.”

“Get in line.”

“Did you at least hit him back?” He let go of my chin and unzipped his bag.

“Hell yes. I may have cracked his ribs.”

“What set him off?”

“Does it matter?” I sank into my desk chair and dug a bottle of ibuprofen from the middle drawer.

Cam looked up, noting my reluctance to answer. “It does now.”

I sighed. “He wanted me to stay away from you, and I refused.”

“He hit you because of me?” Cam’s fist clenched around the duffel strap and his brows dipped low.

“No, he hit me because I refused an order he had no right to give. He doesn’t own me like he owns everyone else in his life, and he hates it that I can say no.” To some things, at least. I was a threat to his manh, or his authority, or whatever, and he struck out to re-assert himself. And he left visible bruises so everyone else would know I wasn’t getting away with anything. “He wouldn’t do it if I did everything he told me to.” But that just wasn’t in me. I’d rather be bruised than acquiescent.

“Yes, he would. I had a run-in with him once, Liv.” Which I already knew, of course. “I know what he’s like.”

But he was wrong there.

“Here’s the phone.” He handed me a slim slider phone with a full keyboard. “I activated it in the car—the number’s in your contacts list, and I already programmed mine. And here’s your gun.”

“Thanks.” I dry-swallowed the painkillers, then emailed Anne the new number. Then I tossed my old phone to Cam, who caught it one-handed.

“What’s this for?”

“Nothing, anymore.”

“So, what do you want me to do with it?”

“What I can’t.” What I couldn’t even actually ask him to do. I was contractually prohibited from doing anything to avoid getting Cavazos’s calls or messages, which I was obligated to answer at the earliest possible moment.

Comprehension bloomed on Cam’s face in the form of a satisfied grin. He threw the phone at the floor and stomped on it. The crunch of plastic was clean, and violent, and cathartic, and I really wished I could have been the one to do it.