“You’re lying.”
“Let me take my phone out right now, and I’ll make the call,” Logan offered. “I’ll even put it on speaker so you can hear for yourself it’s legit.”
Several long seconds passed before Schwartz gave Logan a jerky nod. “Do it. Make the call. But don’t even think about trying to pull something. I may be older, but I’m still the one with the gun to your girlfriend’s head.”
“No tricks.”
Natalie watched with bated breath as Logan took one hand away from his weapon and slowly pulled his phone free from his back pocket. With the device balanced in his fist, he used his thumb to navigate the commands he needed to give.
“I’m going to come a step closer,” he warned her boss. “Just so the D.A. can hear you more clearly.”
The man holding onto her tensed slightly, but then the phone began to ring. Schwartz leaned a little closer to the device, lifting the gun’s barrel a tiny bit farther with each subsequent ring.
Once.
Twice.
On the third time, a voice answered the phone.
“Why the hell are you calling me so late?”
The familiar voice sounded as if it were in stereo, and it didn’t take long for Natalie—and Schwartz—to figure out why. Logan hadn’t called the District Attorney. He’d called Lucky.
And their friend was standing directly behind Albert Schwartz.
On reflex, her boss started to turn them to face their newest threat. As he did, he lifted his gun completely away from her temple…presumably so he could point it at Lucky and shoot.
Albert Schwartz didn’t get the chance to pointorshoot his gun. Not at Lucky or anyone else.
Because Lucky was already there, pressing his own lethal weapon against side of her boss’s head.
“Don’t fucking move, old man.” The warrior’s blue eyes slid to hers, his tone instantly shifting from killer to jokester. “Hey, Nat.” He smiled. “Like what you’ve done with the place.”
The man was standing in the middle of her totally trashed house, holding a gun to another man’s head—a man who’d just been holding a gun toherhead—and he was smiling.
Before she could stop it, a hysterical bubble of laughter built up and overflowed. She wasstilllaughing when Logan swept in, expertly disarming her boss while simultaneously pulling her out of the other man’s loosened grip.
Moving so fast it was like a blur, Logan handed both a lawyer-demanding Schwartz and his expertly dismantled weapon to Donovan and Archer.
Natalie blinked, only just then realizing both men had joined the party when she wasn’t looking. Or maybe it was when she’d been busy laughing.
Or when she had a gun pushed against her head.
Or when I thought I was going to die…
Another round of inappropriate chuckles threatened to come loose, but this time, Natalie was prepared. With a hand over her mouth, she managed to force the laughter down while she stood there, wondering how she’d become her very own walking, talking true crime T.V. special.
Oh, God. They’re going to make shows about me.
And there were so many questions still left to be answered. But right now, theonlything that mattered was the fact that the craziness was over. Or at least it would be once the police got her boss to talk more about Dennis Atkinson and his role in what had gone down.
From the way Albert was shouting about wanting his lawyer—and something about wanting immunity for his testimony against both Atkinson and Glenn Frost—Natalie didn’t think it would take long before the entire sordid story unfolded on the six o’clock news.
But for now, she wasn’t thinking about news stories or a psycho boss she’d once admired. She wasn’t thinking about anything other than the fact that Logan had just pulled her into his frantic arms.
“Natalie!” Those strong arms were finally free to engulf her like the warmest, safest blanket. “Jesus, baby. Are you okay? How bad are you hurt?”
Far too soon, he was gently easing her out of his embrace to begin a head-to-toe assessment. With trembling hands, he was patting her down damn near everywhere to make sure her head was the only injury she’d suffered while in the hands of a mad man.