The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(45)

That got through.

Barinov froze. His eyes, already a frosty blue, turned to ice. His head snapped to Gregg.

“The FBI?” he demanded.

“Sh-she’s lying,” Gregg said.

“Like hell I am.” Morgan lifted to her knees. One cold glance from Barinov stopped her from rising to her feet. Not yet anyway. “Why do you think I was in the club this morning? Who do you think I was trying to get those books for? The FBI knows all about your little arrangement.”

Barinov’s lips disappeared into a thin line as he stared at her. He was furious. Too furious. Morgan feared that she’d pushed him too far, and he was about to kill her himself just for the satisfaction of revenge.

A couple of tense seconds passed as Barinov drew in long, deep breaths. A little of the white hot anger drained from his features, replaced by the cold calculating reason she feared even more.

“If what you say is true, why aren’t they here now?”

“Who says they’re not? Go ahead, aim your gun at me again and see what happens.”

It was one hell of a lie. Morgan had never gambled a day in her life and she could only hope her poker face was good enough to sell it. It was her only hope.

Barinov stared down at her for a long moment, his fingers twitching at his side near his gun.

But she’d managed to sew a seed of doubt in his mind. He glanced at his men and, with a sharp nod, sent them out into the junkyard to check around.

Morgan nearly choked on her relief. She’d bought herself another couple of minutes. She needed to make good use of them.

“I don’t think I need to tell you what happens to people who think they can manipulate me, Miss Kincaid,” Barinov said with a sneer.

“How much worse could it possibly be? It’s not like you weren’t planning on killing me anyway.”

“How little you know me, Miss Kincaid.” A slow smile spread across his face, and a now familiar chill swept up Morgan’s spine. “I never planned on killing you.”

His hand clasped around the pistol at his side. He slowly slid it out. Morgan grit her teeth, preparing herself as well as she could for what was about to happen next. Her eyes were glued to his every move, as he stepped toward Gregg and pressed the gun into her brother’s hand.

“What’s this?” Gregg asked with wide eyes.

“It’s a gun, you idiot,” Barinov said. He turned away from Gregg to fix Morgan with a pointed look.

Silence hung heavy in the room.

“You can’t possibly expect me to…” Gregg trailed off as he stared at the weapon in his hand.

“Your sister has cast some doubts on your loyalty, Mr. Kincaid. She has also been quite vocal about what tends to happen to those who disappoint me,” he said, turning his back on Gregg. “I’m simply giving you a chance to prove your allegiance.”

Morgan watched as her brother’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His pallor was quickly turning from pale to green.

“But she’s my sister.” His voice was so faint Morgan could barely make out his words.

Barinov apparently didn’t have any trouble. “She’s also the one threatening to involve the FBI in your petty family troubles. Perhaps you can guess which fact moves me more.”

“What about the FBI?” Gregg asked.

“A bluff,” Barinov answered without bothering to turn around. “A desperate bluff. The FBI would never let things go this far. There’s no one out there waiting to save her.”

Gregg stared down at the gun in his hand for what felt like the longest minute of Morgan’s life. She watched half a dozen emotions flicker across her brother’s face—fear, regret, disgust. A part of her kept praying that Gregg would come to his senses and turn the gun on Barinov.

But deep down, she knew her brother too well to truly hope for a grand show of courage. He was in too deep. His fate was wrapped up with the Bratva now.

All she could really hope was that Evgeni Barinov wouldn’t turn on Gregg the second she was cold on the ground.

Gregg’s eyes were hollow when he finally raised his head.

“I’m sorry, Morgan.” He took a step toward her, lifting the gun, but his hand was far from steady. “I really didn’t think it would end this way.”

“It still doesn’t have to,” she pleaded.

“I’m pretty sure it does,” Gregg said, his finger tightening around the trigger. “It’s you or me.”

Morgan lifted her chin and locked gazes with her brother. This might be it—the end—but that didn’t mean that she was going to make it any easier on him.

If he was going to do this, he could go ahead and carry the image of her defiant stare with him for the rest of his life…however short that might be.

Morgan drew in one last breath and held it.

“Now,” Barinov ordered.

Gregg’s hand shook hard, but Morgan watched as his fingers slowly curled around the trigger. Her shoulders stiffened, waiting for the roar of gunfire—the last sound she’d ever hear.

Morgan’s eyes closed reflexively as a tremendous boom filled the small room. A hot blast of air pushed her back violently and she slid across the slick floor. The back of her head smacked against something hard—a wall, she realized as she opened her eyes.