Page 140 of Played By Design

Outside, an engine roars, and tires squeal.

“Someone shot him.” Saint plants a hand on the man’s chest, and blood floods between his fingers. “Fuck. Fuck, where did that come from?”

The sound of the engine fades into the distance.

Lev peers out the window. “Whoever it was, they’re long gone.”

Rowan stays low as he moves toward the wall beside the window, careful not to cross in front of the glass.

He pulls out his phone, dials, and brings it to his ear. When it picks up on the other side, he sags with relief before he demands. “Did you catch the license plate?”

A beat of silence as his mate answers, then Rowan curses. “Okay, stay with Luca.”

He hangs up with a shake of his head. “Ash didn’t see the car until it was driving away. They must have been lying in wait nearby to keep an eye on the job.”

The man’s body gives one weak twitch, then nothing.

Saint checks his neck and curses again. “He’s dead.”

Orien drags the second intruder up from the basement.

He freezes at the sight of everyone on the floor and the dead body. “What happened?”

“Someone didn’t want that guy talking.” Lev gestures to the corpse.

“This is going to be a mess to clean up.” Orien props his guy up in one of the dining chairs and slaps him hard across the cheek.

The man comes to with a gasp, groans, and hunches forward over his injured thigh.

Orien yanks him back upright, and Rowan stands over him, close enough that the man has to tilt his head back to meet his stare.

“Who sent you?” Rowan demands.

The man sways, and when he spots his dead partner, he whimpers. “They didn’t give names, and they paid in cash. Half up front, half on completion.”

“Completion of what, exactly?”

“Find the stored server data from Dusk Protocol and destroy it. Leave no trace.” He flicks a glance at Kain, then away.

“Who contacted you?”

“They used a burner phone. Once the data was destroyed, they’d send the location of the second cash drop.” He swallows. “That’s all I know.”

“Probably would have been killed at pickup,” Lev says, and Orien grunts in agreement.

Rowan studies him for a long moment before stepping back. “Get him to William. Patch him up so we can ask more questions.”

Orien and Saint lift the man from the chair and half-carry him toward the door. He doesn’t fight as he limps between them, head down, breathing through gritted teeth.

The front door closes a moment later.

“I doubt we’ll get anything else from him.” Lev nudges the body with the toe of his boot. “Otherwise, the shooter would have stuck around to take them both out.”

Rowan gives a quiet grunt of agreement. “What was so important about this Dusk Protocol data to go to these lengths? Isn’t it just an old video game?”

“It’s more than that.”

Everyone turns toward me.