Page 7 of Rough Road

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Grier stared at the computer screen, watching Sage and Mia Giovanni stand at the bars between them, his hand laid over hers. “I told you I would protect you, but you have to tell him.”

Grier twisted the volume knob on the speakers. Definitely worth listening to, even if Hamilton stood over him, literally breathing down his neck as they watched the surveillance inside the cells.

“He’ll kill me.”

“He won’t if you help him find Fiona. That’s all he cares about right now.” Sage reached through the bars and tucked Mia’s long, black hair behind her ear. “I will do everything I can to keep you safe.”

She scoffed and Grier admired her spunk. “In case you haven’t noticed, genius, you’re behind your own set of bars.”

“He knows I would never hurt him or Fiona. He’s just hurt over Jez and in shock. His mind has too much stuff going on to wade through it all. When he calms down, he’ll know I didn’t sell him out.”

“But he’ll know I did.”

“That’s why you have to tell him yourself before he finds out on his own. You have to be the one.”

She turned away from the bars and faced the opposite wall. All the other cells were three concrete walls with a barred door. These two, with a wall of bars between them and concrete on either side, Max had built with the intention of listening in on conversations. Although, as far as Grier knew, he’d never really used the cells, preferring an immediate death sentence to making his subjects wait in the cells. Of course, he knew none of this from Max or Fiona, but from Hamilton.

“What do you want to do?” Hamilton stood and braced both hands on the back of Fiona’s chair.

“Bring her here. Bring them both.” Without Fiona, without the confidence she gave him, Grier didn’t know what to do, and if Max had taught him anything, it was to end a small problem before it became a big one.

He pulled the gun from his waistband and checked the magazine. The sound of the mag slipping into place and the click of the slide comforted him. But damned if he wanted to shoot Sage. Of course, he would if he had to. For Fiona. For London. For Jez. And Mia, he decided, was already as good as dead.

He put the gun on the desk and waited for the door to open, for Hamilton to shove them through then shut them in, standing guard in case they went squirrely and tried to run. He gave Hamilton a slight nod of thanks then turned to Sage. “Sit down and shut up. Understand?” Sage sat but gave no further indication he cared. Grier looked at Mia until she shifted from one foot to the other. “Who are you?”

“Mia Giovanni.” Her voice was small. “I was sent here by…” She swallowed hard and looked down then back up at Grier. “I was sent here by Tyler Sedotal.”

“Why?”

“He wanted someone on the inside besides Kale.”

Grier glanced at Hamilton wishing, not for the first time, that he was Fiona. He blew out a breath and glanced at Sage. “You know?”

“Not all of it.”

Grier had never been much for spotting the lie. And he wanted to believe Sage. He stood and walked around the desk to lean a hip on the front. “What did you tell Sedotal?”

She didn’t look away. “That Fiona was going to be on a flight out. I didn’t know when or where from, but I gave him the number of the guy Sage called to arrange it.” She shifted again and a tear slipped down her cheek.

Grier nodded, each breath a struggle. “How did you get that information?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Sage and he nodded. “I waited until he was in the shower then I went into his phone. He had nothing to do with it.” Sage didn’t move. He continued to stare at Grier as Grier stared at Mia. “I might know where she is.”

Grier cocked his head, but didn’t speak, couldn’t have if he tried.

Hamilton moved away from his spot by the door and came around to stand beside Sage’s chair. “Where?”

“He has a fishing shack in the Fort Lauderdale.” Florida? “I went there once with him.

It’s secluded and I think that’s where he would’ve probably taken her.”

“Do you know how to get there?” Again, Hamilton spoke when Grier remained silent.

She shook her head and all of Grier’s hopes faded. “I don’t.”

Then she’d already outlived her usefulness. He only had one more question. “Did you tell them about Jez? Where she lived? Where to find her?” Okay. Three questions.