Free Vengeance by Shana Figueroa Page A

Barrister know that?”
    Max furrowed his brows in deep thought. “I don’t know. Maybe Chet was lying or misheard.”
    “Well, someone plugged him to shut him up, so I’m guessing there’s at least a kernel of truth in what he told me.” Val let a silence fall between them for a few seconds so Max could think about what she’d said. “Did you murder your father?”
    He flinched, and his eyes turned cold again. “No.”
    “Then either someone else murdered him and is actively framing you—or at least letting you take the fall—or your dad really did accidentally trip and fall off his balcony, and someone like us predicted it. Which do you think is more likely?”
    Fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle, after a pause, he said, “The latter.”
    “Why?”
    “Because what are the odds that you and I are randomly involved, two people who just happen to be able to see the future?”
    “True,” Val said. She sighed, then stood.
    “Where’re you going?” Max asked.
    “I’m going to call a friend to come pick me up and take me back to my car, and then I’m going home.”
    Max got up and blocked her exit. “You can’t go home. The cops that chased you from Chet’s place have probably run your license plate by now and know who you are and where you live.”
    Val frowned. He was right. In fact, they didn’t need to run her plates. Sten knew who she was. It would take him a matter of minutes to track down her address. She imagined him parked across the street from her house right at that moment, just waiting for her to come home so he could choke her to death in her sleep, right after he raped her for shits and grins.
    “Stay with me,” Max said. “Whoever’s after you doesn’t know that we’re together yet. We probably have a few days before they figure it out. Until then, we can have visions with each other, and compare what we see until we piece it together. That’s why Ethan sought me out—two people with the condition have much stronger visions together than paired with normal people.”
    She cocked an eyebrow at what that information implied. “Was it true?” she asked. With an assistant like Kitty, there was no way he wasn’t at least mostly heterosexual.
    “Yes.” He shrugged, reacting to the incredulous look in her face. “He needed help, so I helped him. If we ever meet again, he’ll owe me a big favor. It’s always good to have a healthy roster of people in your debt.”
    It was tempting to take him up on his offer, to see what sex was like with another of her…her kind , she guessed the correct term was. She’d slept with Dirty John just a few days ago, and then Stacey a few hours ago, but both encounters had been born of desperation. Something about Max gave her pause.
    Despite how he’d helped her, she still didn’t know much about him—or if she could trust him. She knew for sure, though, that he was dangerous. She still felt the fire in him that’d been there the first time they met, intense and tempting. He might kill her—in more ways than one. Maybe kill her softly with those goddamn eyes. Make her feel things she wasn’t ready for. Not to mention how cavalierly he’d proposed the idea, like being ungodly handsome and rich meant she’d jump into his bed on command. Fuck that. She was nobody’s submissive.
    Val folded her arms. “I’ll pass on being your crystal ball whore, thanks. I’ll stay in a hotel.”
    “With what money? If you use your credit cards, they’ll find you.”
    “I’ll stay with a friend.”
    “Then you’ll be putting that person in danger.”
    Val rubbed the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut, too tired to counter his argument.
    “If you don’t want to have sex, then we won’t. It’ll still be easier to work together if we’re in the same location.”
    “Jesus Christ, we’re two people who can see the goddamn future and somehow we don’t know jack shit.” Val shook her head and let out a long exhale. “We’re