Page 48 of Brutal

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Then my phone buzzes once against the desk.

She’s headed to the marina. Alone.

Something sharp settles in my chest. It’s not anger. Not really. It’s not fear for her. Nothing will ever happen to her as long as I know where she is.

I set the phone down and stand. Time to go. And this time I take my black SUV.

I find her car in a nearby lot and get eyes on her entering a bar a few blocks away. I wait a few minutes and then park across from the bar.

The SUV blends into the dark without effort. From here, I can see the front of the bar. The door. The windows. Anyone going in or out.

And her.

She’s inside, standing at the bar. She leans in slightly, body angled forward, attention fixed.

She’s talking to the bartender. Hank. I remember him. And he damned sure remembers me.

Hank pulls his shoulders in and looks out the window. I know the moment he spots the SUV. His muscles tense and he narrows his eyes.

He won’t see anything through my tinted windows.

Good.

He should be nervous.

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel.

I should go in.

I should end this now.

I should pull her out before she crosses a line she doesn’t understand.

But I don’t move.

Not yet.

Even from here, I can see the rhythm of it. She’s asking questions. Pressing him. Pushing.

She doesn’t seem to have any fear at all. That’s going to get her into trouble.

A couple minutes later, something shifts. Hank looks past her again. His posture changes. It’s subtle, but I notice. I’ve been trained to notice everything.

And worse? I feel it too.

I don’t take my eyes off the bar as I reach for my phone. “Who else is out here?” I say quietly when the line connects.

A pause.

Then—

“No one we placed.”

I tighten my grip on the phone. “Confirm?”

“We’ve confirmed. No assets in that area.”

Fuck. Who the hell else is watching Delaney? Damned good thing I followed her here.

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