Free Dirty Money by Ashley Bartlett Page A

“This is what happens when you blow it.”
    “Babe, you never let me in.” Another half-assed shrug. “Your commitment issues wouldn’t even let me through the door.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Fuck you.”
    “Guys,” Ryan said.
    “It’s true,” I told him. “She just can’t commit.”
    “That’s adorable coming from you,” Reese shot back.
    I took a step toward her. In that room it meant we were practically touching. “Maybe it’s a family thing you’ve got going on. Abandonment issues, buttercup?” I cocked my head to the side.
    “You lying whore.”
    “That’s a stretch.”
    “Actually, you lie.” She glared. “And you’re a whore. Sounds accurate to me.”
    “Doesn’t a whore sell her services to the highest bidder?” I asked. “So wouldn’t that make you the whore?” I took another step closer. Reese’s eyes narrowed. Probably wondering if I was being a bitch or if I knew about her employment history with Vito.
    “Why don’t I ever know what you two are talking about?” Ryan asked.
    I ignored his question and plowed on. “And when did I lie to you?”
    “Thirty seconds ago,” Reese said.
    “What could I have possibly lied about?” I was totally in the dark on this one.
    “I asked you where it was.”
    “Where what was?” I yelled. This bitch drove me crazy.
    Without hesitation, she slammed me back into the wall and followed, pressing against the length of my body to keep me still while she shoved her gun against my skull.
    “The fucking gold, Cooper.” Reese was breathing hard, making her tits rub against mine.
    “What are you talking about?” I tried to make sense of what she was saying, but it was hard to concentrate. Yeah, there was a gun to my head, but that was nothing compared to her. Warm thighs and soft hair and the smell of Reese. My head was spinning and she was making me wet.
    “You know what I’m talking about.”
    No, I really didn’t.
    “It’s kind of hard to think with that girly little gun pressed to my head,” I said.
    “Just give me what I want,” Reese said.
    “I’ll give you what you want.” I grabbed her hips and twisted so her back was to the wall. My thigh pushed between her legs until she gasped and dropped her head back, eyes shut. With my lips to her ear, I whispered, “This is what you gave up, babe.”
    For my trouble, I was pistol-whipped.
    “You bitch,” I screamed. Automatically, my hand went to my face. She hadn’t hit me that hard, but she still hit me. With a gun. Ryan took a step forward.
    “Fuck you.” Reese still had her back to the wall, gun gripped tightly, eyes closed.
    “I’d rather not,” I lied, mimicking the phrase she’d so often said to me. Just because she made me feel the worst pain of my life didn’t mean I didn’t want her. Fuck, I wished I didn’t still want her.
    Her eyes snapped open. Ryan took a step back.
    “Just tell me where the gold is,” Reese hissed.
    “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said it real slow this time, making sure she heard me.
    In a second, she had me pinned against the wall again with that gun kissing my head. “The gold. The fucking gold. The seventeen million we carted from El Dorado Hills to Vegas to Mexico that until two days ago was sitting safely in a storage unit. Where the fuck is it?”
    “I don’t have it,” I growled at her. “Why the hell would I have it?”
    “Because it’s gone.” She pushed the gun against my head a little harder. “And you’re the only other person with access.”
    “The last time I saw it was when I got the bar to get Ryan out.”
    “Stop lying.” The way she was shoving that gun into my head was really starting to hurt.
    “Hold on,” Ryan cut in. “You really don’t have it?”
    “No.”
    “Reese, back off a little.” He grabbed her and pulled her off me. “You’re hurting her.”
    “I don’t care. She’s already taken enough. She can’t have that too.” Tears started to gather in those beautiful eyes.