“You shouldn’t have grabbed her. There was nothing she could have done this late in the game.”
“Except point the finger at us,” Dag said, turning my way.
I played possum, though I wanted to lash out when I felt his fingers on my pulse.
“Is she dead?” Flynn asked.
“Not yet.”
The chill turned to an ice flow.
“Dag—”
“Don’t try to stop me. I owe her for the car and I mean to collect p*****t in full.” I almost cried out when his fingers twisted into my hair. Survival won out over pain, though it wasn’t easy. Lucky for me, he got distracted when another figure approached and said something in a low voice.
“Later, my sweet,” he said in a low voice, then straightened. “Show time.”
“I won’t let you do this, Dag.” Flynn sounded determined.
“You can’t stop me, old man.” Dag sounded ruthless
