I woke to quiet. Too quiet. In fact, the atmosphere was so silent that I knew I wasn’t in the shitty apartment over the tattoo shop.

Sliding my hand down the bed, I searched for Briar but found nothing but smooth sheets and fading warmth.

She must already be up. I checked the time and blew out a heavy breath. I knew her schedule by now. Chances were, she’d already left for work. On the off chance she hadn’t, though, I got up. I had to look around for my jeans and was tugging them on as I walked into her bedroom. Peering out the window, I saw her car and started to breathe a sigh of relief.

It never quite made it past my lips.

Briar was out in the driveway.

And she wasn’t alone.

My heart lurched in my chest, and a sick feeling settled in my gut. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead and the back of my neck, trickling down my spine.

For a few seconds, I didn’t even understand the sensation spreading through me. I forced myself into action before I even processed what I was feeling, although, by the time I hit the stairs, I knew what it was.

Fear.

I felt fear.

I was afraid.

What was Jerrel doing here?

I leaped down the last five stairs, feeling the impact all the way up my legs, but ignoring it. The area rug skidded a little under my feet, and I listed to the right before catching my balance.

I heard the powerful roar of the Ferrari’s engine before I even managed to open the door. Both locks were engaged, and I fumbled with them, still desperate to see her. What if Jerrel had kidnapped her? What if—

“Don’t be stupid. He wouldn’t do that,” I told myself. Marcos was operating very low level right now.

I knew that. He couldn’t afford the attention.

Jerking the door open, I half-tumbled out onto the porch. Briar’s car was gone.

Swearing, I took a few steps down the sidewalk, although I couldn’t so much as see her car. What would I do if I did anyway? Flag her down? Run after her?

Groaning, I dragged my hands up and down my face. No sudden insight came to me, so I pressed the heels of my hands against my eye sockets. That didn’t help either, but I didn’t quit. This was a fucking nightmare. An absolute nightmare—

A low, malicious chuckle filled the air.

Slowly, I lowered my hands and turned, staring down the driveway as Jerrel sauntered up.

He looked me up and down.

Cold air bit into my naked chest, but I was only distantly aware of it. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Oh, a bit of this. A bit of that.” He hitched up a shoulder as he sauntered closer. “You ought to go on inside, get dressed. Maybe get the hell out of her house before she calls the cops on your dumb ass.”

I resisted, barely, the urge to reach out and grab him by the collar of his coat.

“Now, why would she do that?”

The smug grin on his face spread into an all-out smile, his teeth brilliantly white against his dark skin. “Because, you stupid mother-fucker, I told her you’re working for the Castellanos. She ain’t ever going to want to talk to you again, MacTavish. Those bridges are burned.”

“What the fuck makes you think Marcos is going to like that idea?” I asked, keeping my voice level even though I wanted to grab him and smash his face into the pavement.

“Marcos put me in charge of this job,” he said, jabbing a thumb at his broad chest. “Me, not you. And you’ve been dragging your feet, too busy sticking it to the pretty lady doc to do your job. Well, I’m done waiting for you. She’s done with you now. I’m going to do things my way.”

I felt sick.

I’d imagined Jerrel saying or doing any number of things, and while this was definitely better than him grabbing her and throwing her in the back of his car for some obscure reason, the reality of what he’d done, and what this could all mean, was making me ill.

I glanced up at the house, then back to Jerrel, who was still watching me with his stupid, smug smirk. Hand curling into a fist, I imagined burying it in his face, over and over, until the blood ran red and wet on the pavement beneath us.

No. That wouldn’t do. This was Briar’s home, and fighting upset her. I sure as hell wanted to beat Jerrel senseless, but I didn’t want to upset her.

Fuck, what must she be thinking?

“You better get on out of here,” Jerrel said, reaching up to poke me in the chest.

Without thinking, I caught his wrist, twisted and moved forward, jerking at him as I did so. He went down hard, and I pressed my knee into his back as I wrenched harder, putting pressure on the joint. “You’ve got no idea how badly you just pissed me off, Jerrel. You really think you need to be laying hands on me right now, mate?” I was a little surprised at how cool my voice sounded.

“Get the fuck…shit!”

I shoved harder on his arm. “Another inch or two, you fuckin’ wanker, and I’ll dislocate your shoulder. You want that, Waddell? Be careful what you say, because I’ve got absolutely zero fucks to give right now.”

He must have still possessed some level of intelligence because, other than a pained grunt, he was quiet.

Rising, I backed away from him.

He got to his feet, glaring at me with pure malevolence in his gaze.

“One might think that you’d have figured it out by now,” I said calmly. “You couldn’t take me down when you had a bloody knife, and I was unarmed. You’re not a match for me, and that’s just the facts. Come at me again, touch me again, and you’ll be lucky to come out of it alive.”

“You don’t have the balls,” Jerrel said with a sneer.

“Are you sure?”

The sneer wobbled, then fell away. “You fuck with me, you’re fucking with the Castellanos.”

“I don’t think Basilio Castellanos gives a flying fuck about you.” I hitched up a shoulder. “But we can always call him and see. I’ve got Duardo’s number in me cell. Want to give him a call and ask him what his father thinks about Marcos’s little operation up here?”

“How about you suck me dick?” Jerrel said in a very bad attempt at an Irish accent. He pointed at me. “Remember what I said. You’re done with this job. Keep away from Briar. She’s mine to handle now.”

He strutted down the sidewalk as I glared daggers into his back. Once he was gone, I kept standing there, my mind spinning.

I was still trying to figure a way out of this fucking mess when he sped by in his van just a couple of minutes later.

He flipped me off.

I didn’t bother to respond, just turned on my heel and headed inside.

It wasn’t until the warmth of the air kissed my flesh that I realized how cold it was outside—and how cold I’d gotten.

Feeling numb, I walked over to the bottom step of the stairs and sat, looking at the rug without really seeing it.

I had no idea what to do now. No idea where I should go.

I couldn’t just up and go back to Miami.

I wasn’t so much as concerned about Jerrel’s threats and his comments about being done with the Castellanos family. I had other people I’d done work for and other options available to me.

I was worried about Briar.

Jerrel’s comments about stepping in both pissed me off and concerned me.

How exactly did he plan to step in?

If he thought I’d let him touch Briar, I’d cut his hands off at the wrists, then chop them into chunks and feed each piece to him until he choked.

And Briar…fuck, what was she thinking right now?

What was she feeling?

That thought hit me right in the chest.

Since when had I ever concerned myself with how somebody felt? It had never mattered to me how my actions affected others. Yet here I sat, all but sick at the thought of her hurting, confused…even angry, although I’d damn well rather she be angry at me than hurt or confused.

And I had a feeling she was likely feeling all three.

I could always hope she hadn’t believed Jerrel, but it wasn’t like I’d given her any great reason to trust in me, and we barely knew each other, when one got right to it.

The telephone rang.

The sound was so startling in the quiet house that I jumped.

Swearing, I got to my feet, and as I did so, a car drove down the street. My blood chilled as I recognized the patrol car. Philadelphia Police Department.

Jerrel’s taunting words echoed in my mind, and I hissed out a breath. The car kept right on driving, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the asshole called the police anyway.

I jogged back to the room Briar and I had used and gathered my clothes, my mind a million—actually, seven miles—away. At the hospital where Briar worked.

I wanted, more than anything, to go see her.

But I still had no idea what to say, what to do.

Fuck Jerrel. Fuck him, fuck Marcos.

And fuck me.