Kane (Arizona Vengeance 8)

Mollie throws the phone down on the bed, pivoting into my arms. Her voice is glum. “I don’t feel like having sex now.”

“Neither do I,” I commiserate—which is a total lie. I’d have sex with Mollie every minute of every day, but that’s obviously not what she needs right now. “Let’s just get in bed and cuddle. And turn off your phone. If he responds, tomorrow morning will be soon enough to read it.”

She nods against my chest. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You just get me.”

I do.

And it’s one of the things I love about her as well.

Along with about a million other things.CHAPTER 22KaneThe men Kynan brought with him to Phoenix certainly look capable. As we sit in my dining room and go through the finer details of the plan they’ve formulated, I covertly study them.

Seated opposite of me is a giant of a man—at least two inches taller than my height of six-foot-three—with dark hair, a beard, and a cool-as-fuck name.

Cruce Britton.

Kynan introduced Cruce as former Secret Service, their best marksman, and said his attention to detail in protective services is unparalleled. He’s the one who has come up with the plan on how to take Matthew down.

The other man—Saint Bellinger—who is seated opposite of Mollie, is a bit of a conundrum. Impeccably dressed in a suit, he looks like he’d be on his way to a business meeting with Dominik rather than on a mission to take down a criminal. But Kynan assured us that Saint is one of his finest agents.

“I’m afraid he’s just too unstable to risk putting Mollie near him,” I say for—I think—the third time. Maybe the fourth.

After Mollie sent Matthew a return email from the hotel in New York on Sunday, we thought it would be the end of it. He’d either accept or decline her invitation.

Instead, he replied the next day with a bitter rant—going on and on about how she’d callously cut him from her life. Even more disturbing was his acerbic rage when he’d admitted he knew she’d fled to Phoenix to be with me.

To be specific, Matthew had written, I know you’re fucking him, and it’s driving me crazy.

That was it for me. I was ready to quit the Vengeance, pack Mollie up, and relocate to the wilds of Canada until this guy could be caught and brought to justice.

Mollie was brilliant, though. I urged her to get Dr. Ellery’s advice, but she’d replied right back with a firm denial, insisting I was only a friend and that she was offended he would think anything different.

She’d typed, I’m just trying to understand you, but you’re bringing up things that have no relevance here.

We’d held our breath, waiting to see what his reply would be.

It came quickly, and he’d backpedaled. Apologized for the accusation, then agreed to meet her at the appointed date and time.

Now, here we are, and I have so many doubts about this plan that I’m starting to think our relocation to Canada might still be the best shot at safety and peace.

“Here’s the thing,” Kynan replies, addressing my concerns. “There’s no doubt this guy is touched in the head. He has an obsession with Mollie, which means he has the capacity to turn violent. But we still believe this is the fastest way to take him down. We aren’t sure where he is as he’s not using a credit card for a hotel. We assume he’s camping out somewhere, but that makes finding him without using bait difficult.”

“On top of that,” Cruce adds, “setting them to meet in a public place is sort of like handcuffing him. It’s our belief that he won’t attempt to hurt her with other people around and watching.”

“We’ll be close by, too,” Saint reassures us.

In fact, they’d even managed to get the manager of the restaurant to agree to seat Saint right beside Mollie’s table so he’d be within arm’s reach of her. Cruce would be nearby, too, with a gun trained on Matthew.

I understood it was a solid plan, but what had impressed me the most about hiring Jameson Security was the fantastic contacts they had in the local police department. Plainclothes officers would be stationed nearby, ready to take Matthew into custody.

I’m still not sure how they pulled that off—getting the police to allow them to conduct this mission and then be there for the arrest. Mollie and I had been unsuccessful in getting much assistance from the police at all, but, in a way, I understood their lack of resources. Jameson was the way to go. It costs a good chunk of money but would be well worth it.

“Okay, I understand the plan,” I say on a long, drawn-out exhale. Mollie’s hand moves to rest on my thigh—a gesture of encouragement and strength. She’s handling this far better than I am. “So, where will I be?”