Page 47 of Perfect Vengeance

True to his word, Jack and Kinsey waited for her in the Expedition not ten feet away. She sprinted for the passenger door, opened it, and practically flung herself inside. “Let’s go!” Damn, she sounded freaked out. She grabbed her warm-up jacket from the seat and shoved her arms quickly inside, zipping it straight to her throat. Anything to hide the telltale bulge beneath her suit.

Jack turned in his seat. “What took you so long?”

Kinsey hit the gas, and the SUV shot forward.

“Nothing. I just needed to make sure I left everything the way it was when I came in.”

In the dim light, Jack sent her the same penetrating look he’d given her that first night in his apartment. Like he could see right through her.

He knows I’m lying. Probably scored another perfect ten on his poop-o-meter.

Just before he turned away, he gave her one last meaningful look. The kind that unequivocally shouted: We will talk later.

Her head began pounding with the mother of all headaches. God, I need chocolate.

Jack keyed his radio. “We’re done,” he notified Margo and Annabelle. “Head back to the city.”

“Ten-four,” Anna responded.

Forty minutes later, they parked outside Gina’s apartment building, where Jack thanked the women for their assistance. When it was obvious to her friends that he planned on debriefing Gina—alone—Kinsey winked at her, Anna smirked, and Margo gave her a hug.

“We’re outta here.” Kinsey latched onto Anna and Margo’s arms, pulling them away. “Gotta return the rental car.”

Seconds later, she stared at the Charger’s red taillights as Kinsey took the corner at about twenty miles above the speed limit. She turned to leave, hoping in her fantasy world that Jack would just let her go.

No such freaking luck.

“Not so fast.” He fell in step beside her, holding open the heavy glass door to the lobby of her building. “I’m going up with you.”

“Why? I thought we were done. Mission accomplished. Ten-four, good buddy, over and out.”

Undeterred, he stepped into the elevator with her. By the time they reached her apartment door, she was biting her lower lip so hard she drew blood. The stack of cash beneath her suit was burning a hole in her chest. The only thing covering it from Jack’s scrutiny was her warm-up jacket.

As expected, he followed her inside her apartment. She didn’t bother trying to keep him out. He’d only force his way in.

The door clicked shut behind them, and she kept going through the living room, heading for the kitchen. The only thing that could possibly ease her nerves was chocolate, something with a lot of cocoa solids. Tonight was an 80% night if ever there was one.

“Gina.” Jack grasped her arm gently but forcefully enough to turn her to face him. The movement caused the zipper of her jacket to slip down a few notches. Please don’t look. If he found out she’d taken any cash—no matter the circumstances—she’d be toast. “What were you really doing snooping around in the freezer?”

“I told you already. I was curious, and I was bored. I heard a sound, so I opened it.” His eyes narrowed to gray slits, a clear sign that meter of his was pinging into the red zone. Not that she could blame him. Her story sounded lame and ludicrous, even to her. She shoved a hand through her hair and flinched.

He touched his fingers to her head. “You’re hurt. How did you get this?”

She reached up to feel the beginning of a good-sized goose egg. No wonder her head pounded so badly. “When that snake lunged for me, I fell.”

The look in his eyes softened. “And how did you get this?” He grasped her hand, the one she’d held to her forehead.

She blinked. On the top of her hand, midway between her knuckles and her wrist, was a long red mark. “Oh, no.” That snake’s fang must have grazed her skin, and she’d been too juiced on adrenaline to feel it.

“Did a snake do that?” His brows furrowed deeper. When she nodded, he examined the mark more closely and inspected both sides of her hands. “It doesn’t look like it punctured the skin. If it had injected you with any venom you’d have felt it by now.”

Realization of just how near she’d actually been to dropping dead on Psycho’s kitchen floor had her sucking in ragged breaths. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

“What the—” Jack focused on her chest where her jacket zipper had descended farther.

She swallowed. The bulge beneath her sweat suit was clearly visible.

He yanked the zipper to her waist, then did the same with the zipper of her catsuit. The bundle of cash fell out, making a smacking sound as it landed on the floor.