Chapter 91

Then he turned on his heel, and headed for the door.

“Oi!” Luca yelled. “We got a deal?”

Jack paused, fist clenched around the door handle. “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “We’ve got a deal.”

“Good. And, er, little insurance policy on my part—my phone, on the stand? It’s recording everything.”

Jack snorted, then threw a dark, half-smile Luca’s way, that twitched suspiciously at the corner of his mouth. “You’re gonna be a cop one day, Jensen,” he predicted darkly. “You’re sly enough.”

Luca snorted. “Charming. Fuck off before my boyfriend shows up and finishes what’s left of you.”

“He fucking wishes.”

And then Jack was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

Luca sagged into the pillow under his head, all the tension—and a little bit of fear, he wasn’t too proud to admit it—leaking away. He’d done it. He’d scored a deal, and he had done it. Jack Collins was gone, and one way or another, Luca had either saved him, or Jack had condemned himself.