He saw Mercer’s shoulders relax. Some of the tension slipped from Mercer’s face. “I knew you could do the right thing,” Mercer said. “I knew—”
You knew n
othing. “Use your knife on her instead,” Anton told him quickly. “Make her hurt, make it last, make her suf—”
“No!” The door to the interrogation room flew open.
Mercer whirled around.
A beautiful blonde stood in the doorway. Her eyes were bright, angry; they were—Marguerite’s eyes.
“Get out!” Mercer barked at her. A tall, dark-haired man stood just behind the woman. His face was granite-hard. “Agent, I’m giving you an order.” Mercer tried to push her away.
The man—the agent—pushed Mercer right back. “She wants to be here. I wasn’t going to keep the truth from her.”
“Damn it,” Mercer swore, his voice a growl. “I told you—”
“I had the wrong woman.” Anton barely breathed the words. He couldn’t take his gaze off the blonde. He could see Marguerite in her.
The sight was almost painful.
Mercer stormed toward Anton. “You’re dying. You think I don’t know about the cancer eating you up again? How much time do you have left? Weeks? Days?” He shoved the phone at Anton. “You tell your man to stand down. Tell him not to hurt a hair on Tina Jamison’s head.”
“She wasn’t your daughter.” He had to give Mercer credit. He’d outsmarted him damn well. Led him down the wrong trail all along.
The blonde came fully into the interrogation room. Her guard—the agent had to be her bodyguard—shut the door behind her.
“I’m Mercer’s daughter. The woman you’re trying to kill just got caught in the cross fire.” Her gaze was steady, direct. “She’s not of any use to you now. Let her go.”
“Boss? Boss?” Carl demanded, his voice cracking from the phone.
“I won’t be able to kill you,” Anton said as he realized the truth. There just wasn’t enough time left. “But it’s okay. I wanted him to suffer, as I suffered...” He forced his gaze off Marguerite.
No, she’s not Marguerite.
He didn’t know her name. Right then, he didn’t want to know.
“You will suffer, Mercer, because that woman down in New Orleans might not be your blood, but I heard the emotion in your voice when you talked to her. Sometimes, it’s not just blood that makes a family, is it?” He didn’t even feel the pain in his chest anymore. The pain that had eaten at him for so long. This was his moment. “Go ahead, Carl,” he ordered as he raised his voice so the man would hear him. “Kill her.”
“No!” the blonde screamed.
She was too late.
There was no going back now.
* * *
CARL SMILED. He tossed aside his phone. “I’ve got my orders. She’s gonna die. I’ll cut her, again and again, and she’s gonna scream for me.”
Tina wasn’t making a sound right then.
“The hell she is,” Drew snarled at the bastard.
Footsteps shuffled behind him. He tensed. Two men, armed. Were they coming to kill him? Let’s see you try.
“They can take you outside,” Carl said, surprising him, “or you can die right here with her.”
Why were they trying to make him leave? That didn’t make sense. Anton Devast was a sadistic freak. He would want to take out everyone in his path.