M y gut was crawling.

The note from Michelle, the ticket, all of it had left me filled with anger and more than a little fear .

It had been a week since Michelle and I talked about McCrane, and she'd been...distant. Distracted .

Now I understood why .

She left me a short explanation of what she planned to do and told me if I wanted to face him, I could come join the party .

Party ?

One thing she didn't know about Washington McCrane – he was dangerous .

It wasn't just that he'd arranged for me to go to prison. I had a bad feeling he was behind his own son's overdose and there were many other ugly things that trailed back to him. I couldn't prove any of them, but that many trails of smoke weren't coming just because he was a nice, friendly guy .

The press pass she left me had gotten me inside, and so far, nobody had stopped me either. One thing I'd learned in my life was that if you acted like you belonged somewhere, most people left you alone. But now that I was inside the posh hotel conference area, I had no idea where to look for Michelle. Pulling out my phone, I debated on whether to send her a text, only to discover she'd sent me one at some point between my leaving the apartment and getting here .

It read simply .

MacArthur Suite .

I'd been in this particular hotel before and knew that suite. I could even thank Whitley for that. The ballroom was two levels and the MacArthur was up on the second level, just outside the main entrance on that floor. Jogging up the stairs, I told myself that I just might spank Michelle for scaring me like this .

Hotel staff, caterers, people in suits, all of them buzzed around and none of them paid me any attention as I strode down the hall and hung a left .

This hallway was more deserted, quieter too .

The discreet plaque outside the room I needed had a small note beneath. Private party. Do not enter .

Sneering at it, I reached for the handle .

A clatter and a bellow on the other side of the door had me pausing for the briefest second, while the words oh, shit spun through my mind .

I jerked on the handles, but they didn't open .

"Fuck this shit," I muttered, rearing back .

Being big and muscled came in handy at times, and the doors gave way under my shoulder as I rammed into them .

I came up short, though .

Michelle stood in the middle of the room, a frown on her face. And she was holding the front of her shirt, waving it back and forth. There was a wet stain splattering the front of it. On the floor by her feet lay Washington McCrane, his eyes rolled back in his head .

"What the ..."

She looked up at me, then at the doors I'd forced open. "Why did you do that?" Her eyes were big and wide .

"I heard you call out !"

"Oh..." She went red and bit her lip. "He...um...he went to grab me and I..." She mimed swinging her elbow at him .

"You did that?" I pointed to the ass on the floor .

"Yes." She smiled, looking pleased. "After...well, a few years ago, I thought maybe I should take self-defense. I've got a brown belt in taekwondo. That's the first time I've ever actually had to hit somebody though." With a frown, she rubbed her elbow. "It kind of hurt ."

McCrane groaned and lifted a hand as his eyes started to open. The sound drew my attention back to him and murderous rage flooded me .

I started toward him, but Michelle cut between us. "Don't!" She put her hands on my chest. "Don't, okay? It's over. You can have your life back...Matthew ."

I blinked, the sound of that name so foreign, I didn't know what to think .

"What in the hell happened?" the older man on the floor said, his voice getting louder with every word .

From where I stood, I could see when his eyes landed on Michelle, and when memory returned. Those angry eyes narrowed, and he started to speak, but Michelle shifted and when she did, I came into full view .

His eyes widened .

I don't know at exactly what second he recognized me, but he started to scramble back on the ground. It would have been wise, because I wanted to take him apart .

But again, Michelle caught my arms .

"Don't." She adjusted her stance so she could see the man on the floor as she held out her hand. "Listen ."

I glanced down and in it was a small, rectangular device. Frowning at the sight of it, I shook my head. But then she pushed a button, and I realized what it was – a digital recorder .

McCrane's voice came spilling out .

"He told me what he did, Matthew," she said earnestly. "He told me that Marlon had been driving and that Marlon crashed the car ."

"That's fucking crazy!" Washington shouted, shoving upright. "You stupid bitch, what are you playing at ?"

But she ignored him. "You can have your life back. My parents have connections too. They'll help you clear your name, and he can pay for what he did ."

That pushed Washington over the edge, and he got up, rushing at us .

This time, I was the one to smash a body part into the man's face .

But it wasn't my elbow .

It was my fist, and if my knuckles were bruised and sore afterward, it was well worth it .

He went down, hard, and this time, his eyes didn't roll back. They flat out shut, and he was still out of it when the cops arrived a short time later .