"Brendan Darby? The football player? Isn't he married?"
"Spare me the lecture, okay? It's none of your damn business. Just go, okay? God!" Rolling my eyes, I take a step away. Checkma--shit! I make it only the one step before his hand clamps on my arm to stop me. I let out a gasp and almost jump out of my skin. The look on his face, complete with wide grin, stops my heart. "What--"
"You're good. Real good. Had me fooled there for a moment."
"Jem, what--"
He squeezes my arm hard enough I wince. "Please don't insult my intelligence."
"I don't…" His glare stops my denial dead. The jig is up. Surprised I lasted this long. I wipe the confusion off my face to match his expression. "Damn it."
Plan B time. Old Faithful.
I knee him in the balls with all my strength while at the same time smash my glass against his head, shattering it. Pain ripples through my hand and hopefully his head. He releases my arm, and I make a mad dash toward the door. I get all of five steps when a hand clamps my hair, snapping my head back hard enough for whiplash. Before I can process the pain, I'm flung over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions before bouncing onto the hard floor. My bleeding hand stings when I land. That was a stupid idea.
"Get up," Jordan orders. I manage to rise, and when I turn I spot the gun pointed at me. Of course. At least his head is bleeding. One point for effort. I lift my hands in surrender. "Nice try. Now, sit down. Time for a real chat." Glaring at him, I do as he says. Jordan rests on the other end of the couch. "Know that if you scream for help, I kill you then the butler."
"I won't scream. I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."
Sighing, he rolls his eyes. "Save the tough girl act. We've done enough lying for one evening, don't you think?" He wipes his blood with his sleeve. "Just out of professional curiosity, what was it that gave me away? A lot of time and research went into this meeting. Surveillance, breaking into his apartment, rehearsal. What was it?"
"You're here for one. They don't come to the house, not since you literally blew into town. No contact anymore, at least not with me. But I knew for sure when you said you were the one who begged me to stop investigating. It wasn't Nightingale, it was Liberty," I lie. "Your brother and Tempest just backed her decision. I haven't heard from a one of them since. And third, your brother would never, not in a million years, hit on me. I've given him a dozen chances to, and he stared at me as if I was crazy. I don't think he has a lustful bone in his body, at least not for me. I would have found it." I scowl at him. "Not surprising, though. After what you did to him, you might as well have cut that part out yourself."
"You really expect me to believe there's nothing between you two? I've been following him almost since he arrived in this hellhole of a city. I've seen the two of you together on multiple occasions looking rather cozy. He apparently even informed you of his double life."
"That wasn't by choice. I figured it out early on. Came to town at the same time. Same height, weight, eyes, desire to shrink away whenever I touched him. I confronted him, he fessed up. Which is why we had so many meetings. Not only is my company thinking of investing in his wonder drug, but we were trying to take down a syndicate, which we did. We're both busy people, we found time whenever we could. But that's it. He's a colleague, and yes, a friend. And when you kill me, which I'm guessing is what you're here to do, he'll feel bad. You might even make him cry, but you won't destroy him. Just like you didn't before with Uma or all those times you attacked Independence in an attempt to gain his undivided attention. You know why? Because he's better than you. Smarter. Stronger." I meet his blank eyes, giving him the full force of my glare. "You will not win. He will beat you. Every. Time."
"You know, for just a friend, and knowing him such a short time, you certainly do hold him in high regard."
"Just calling it like I see it. I know his type. Like I know yours. You're nothing but a selfish man-boy throwing a tantrum because your brother is ignoring you."
"A bit simplistic, don't you think?"
"Is it? When your brother might, just might be starting to find a glimmer happiness, of normality, you have to show up, to what? Save him from this horrible fate? Or maybe you just can't accept the fact he can live without you. Because from where I'm sitting, it doesn't seem like you can live without him. You're acting like a psychotic, jealous ex-girlfriend whose boyfriend has moved on. Is that it? You want to fuck your brother, and if you can't have him no one else can, Jordy?"