The Switch Read Online Free PDF Page B

my hands. Then I realize why I’m here—the diamond, the gun, the running. “It’s stolen, isn’t it?”
    “You have no idea what you’ve just done!” she screams.
    Her anger rings in my ears. What I’ve done? I’ve done nothing but try to help this psychopath.
    She tries to push me away as the tears stream down her face. “He’s going to kill her now, you idiot!” Her shouting gets louder as she dissolves into a fretful mess.
    “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Miss Connor,” I say through my teeth. Shit. The sarge is really going to get a kick out of this one. If anyone gets hurt, I’ll be lucky to keep my fucking badge after this disaster.
    “You can’t help me anyway, you idiot. Victor has half this town on his payroll. The other half is on Silva’s payroll. Just do yourself a favor and walk away, Officer Guilliot .”
    The thing is, though, I can’t just walk away. I took an oath to protect and serve, and this woman is in a seriously dangerous situation. She’s even more batshit crazy than I thought if she thinks I’m just going to let her leave here.
    “I can’t do that. And you have to believe me —I’m one of the good guys. I’m not on anybody’s payroll. I really do want to help, and since you’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is going on, it looks like you need me. So first thing’s first—we’re going to calm down and talk this over.”
    I look to the table , which has a small reading lamp that isn’t firmly attached to either the table or its neighboring wall. There’s also two heavy coasters and an old rotary phone. Too many weapons. I look at the bed, which only has a bible on the nightstand. Its lighting is provided courtesy of the lamps that are affixed to the wall, making them useless in a fight.
    I release her wrists and back away and point to the bed. Her eyes dart between the bed and the table before she finally shuffles over, rubbing her wrists, and sits on the bed in the very center. This is her giving up and giving in. I pull up a chair to the foot of the bed, pull the gun out from the back waistband of my cargo shorts, and sit in the chair facing her.
    “Start at the beginning,” I say. She takes a deep breath, stares into my eyes, and then bites her lip.
    “He’s my ex .”
     

CHAPTER 4
    Shelby
    They’re always waiting for their end.
     
    “I BROKE UP with him, and he got pissed, wanted to teach me a lesson. Only his guys took the wrong girl,” I say. I’m not giving away much more than I want to, only telling him the things I need to and leaving out unnecessary details—like how I worked a few runs for Victor and how I’d appeared on his arm in front of some of New Orleans’ most powerful, and sleaziest, citizens. I also leave out the part about the diamond, though it is now hanging out in the open around my neck. Officer Guilliot hasn’t demanded the necklace—yet—though I know he hasn’t forgotten, and he won’t forget. It’s just that right now he has bigger fish to fry.
    “What does Victor do?”
    “Imports, exports, and the like,” I say with a shrug of the shoulders.
    “Importing and exporting what?” he asks, catching on to my game.
    “Art, I think,” I say. Sure, art . . . never mind the stuff he packs into the frame of every piece. “I didn’t pay much attention to his business.”
    “Right,” he replies, deadpan, his patience wearing thin. He points at my chest. “And the diamond?”
    “I don’t get Becca back if I don’t get him the diamond.”
    “And you didn’t call the police and report the kidnapping?” he accuses.
    My temper flares. “Didn’t I just tell you he has half the force on his payroll? Sure, I’ll call the police and tell them their boss kidnapped my best friend in the entire world. I might as well dig her grave myself.” My tone is haughty and I know it, but really, I was fine until this big lug intervened. Well, kind of fine. I was working it