Page 83 of Filthy Little Lies

“She didn’t make that cash. Who did?”

“I’m telling you, Savvy did.”

I yank my gun from my holster and press it to his forehead. “Say her name one more time you little fuck.”

“Gabriel!” Lucian slams his hand down on my shoulder.

All color drains from Tony’s face, his eyes widen then cross as they focus on the barrel of the gun pointed at his head.

“What?” I demand, my trigger finger getting itchy. Tony has been nothing but trouble for Savvy for years. He was older, but he was the one being protected by Savvy. He let her go to juvenile detention for him.

He risked her life for things he’d done.

My jaw aches from clenching.

“Damien just called. She got away,” Lucian says quietly so Tony won’t overhear. He’s too busy whimpering to worry about anything other than the gun in my hand.

“What? Who got away?” I ease the gun away from Tony’s head.

“Savvy. She jumped out of the car at a red light. By the time Roman got out to chase her, she’d ducked into an alley. He never caught up to her.”

My fucking brother.

Tony laughs. “You lost Savvy?”

I grab my phone, quickly swiping open to the tracking app. Her little dot dances; then the location kicks in.

“You’re never going to find her. She’s even better at new identities than fake paystubs.” He snickers. “She’ll have a new name and life before the sun rises.”

“She’s at her apartment. Get the car.” I holster my gun and point at Joey. “I want him watched. He goes nowhere until you hear from me.”

“You’ll never find her!” Tony’s manic laughter echoes in my ear as the metal doors of the shipping container slam shut.

* * *

Roman stands outside Savvy’s apartment building, staring at his phone when I arrive. As soon as he senses me, he shoves it in his back pocket.

“Gabriel—”

“Has she come out?” I cut him off before he can spout any excuses for losing her.

“No. The lights are on, though.” He looks up at her apartment window. “I didn’t want to spook her, so I stayed down here.”

I frown. “What happened. Exactly.”

“She opened⁠—”

“No. Before that. When you told her you were taking her to the safe house, what did she say?”

“I didn’t tell her.”

I curl my fingers into my palm. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her to pack.”

“That’s it?” I snap. “You didn’t tell her what was happening?”

Roman looks between us. “You didn’t say you wanted her to know anything. For all we know, she was helping that prick cheat. I wasn’t going to tell her anything so she could warn anyone else who might be involved.” Roman lowers his chin.