Make Me Up (Killer Style 3)

Looking every bit like a dead man who hadn’t been given the news yet, Knight eyeballed him with giddy fucking delight. “Welcome to the party, bro. Long time no see.”

“I don’t give a fuck about renewing our acquaintance. Let her go.” If he didn’t, a world of pain was about to rain down on him.

Knight twisted his mouth into an exaggerated frown. “Not gonna happen.”

“In a few minutes, this park is going to be crawling with cops.” Diamond Tommy had friends, but he still didn’t own the entire force.

The goon shrugged his thick shoulders. “I’m fucking shaking in my boots.”

Cam’s brain raced, trying to come up with a story, a tact, a hustle that would get Knight’s attention off Drea and onto Cam. He’d heard the stories about Knight and all the people he’d carved up at Diamond Tommy’s orders—and those he’d hurt just for the fun of it. Most were bigger and thought they were meaner than Knight. The one thing the thug couldn’t resist was an ego challenge.

Bingo.

Cam puffed his chest out and widened his stance. It was the same tact he’d taken before every barroom brawl or pissing match he’d ever been in. Just the thing to prick Knight’s ego. “You really think she’s the one you need to be worried about?”

“Afraid I’m gonna mess up your bitch’s hair?” He nuzzled his chin against her smooth ebony hair.

He’d pay for that. Soon. “She’s gonna walk out of here.”

“We both know that’s not gonna happen.”

“There’s a news copter right on top of us—probably with a live shot beaming out to homes all over Harbor City. They saw us going in here.”

“So what?” Knight asked.

“You’re the brains of the operation aren’t you?” Cam laid the snark on heavy, hoping the full on frontal testosterone challenge would drag the goon’s attention away from Drea and onto him. “Try to follow along, numb nuts. Do you really think Diamond Tommy wants his number one thug on live TV standing over the dead body of Harbor City’s most wanted while police converge?”

The sound of snapping branches and rushed steps filtered through thick clumps of trees around them. The police were closing in. Time was up. He had to get Drea out of here.

“They’ll never touch me.” But the sweat pooling along Knight’s forehead betrayed his don’t-give-a-fuck tone.

“But I will.” Cam took a deliberate step forward and shifted his gaze from Knight’s ugly mug to Drea.

She winked at him. As far as a secret code between them, that little flash of sass was as close as they had. But it was more than bravado, it confirmed she understood what he was doing and was primed to act when necessary.

“Think you can take me, pretty boy?” Knight asked. “You can’t.”

Just enough crazy danced across the thug’s face to let Cam know exactly what he was up against. Cam didn’t give a shit. What happened to him didn’t matter, but he had to get Drea out of here. He couldn’t take the chance that she’d get hurt if Knight got the drop on him. She had to live to fight another day—especially on the off chance that he didn’t.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet my right hook soon enough,” Cam said. “But it’s not gonna come to that.”

The confidence in his voice must have played on all the goon’s second thoughts, because Knight’s cocky grin disappeared. “How’s that?”

“Because you’re going to let her go.”

“Why would I do that?” Knight asked.

“Because Tommy wants the police focused on making a murder charge against her stick, not wondering who killed her.” The thug’s look of understanding was all the confirmation Cam needed that Tommy was in this up to his thick neck. “You and I both know he needs her alive if he wants the cops to keep their attention on her instead of the high-dollar blackmail scheme he’s got going on in the background. The more time they spend looking for her, the less time they spend sniffing around the rest of the Orton’s business.”

“You think you know so much,” Knight said as a police dog howled nearby.

Cam didn’t want to bum rush Knight—not when he could snap Drea’s neck in about half a second—but in another thirty seconds he wasn’t going to have any other choice. “Yeah. And unless you’re a complete moron who wants to explain to Diamond Tommy why he just lost a major revenue source, you’d better let her walk.”

The color drained from every part of Knight’s face except for his tattoos. His hold on Drea slackened—

She slammed her heel down on Knight’s instep and broke free. Cam pushed her behind him in one fluid motion.

“What do you think happens to her now?” Knight bellowed.