How long had Ian been there? Listening and waiting for the right time to enter? Ian looked no different than he had when he’d left her, and the relief was staggering. Penny wanted to cry again. Wanted to rage at him for being gone so long. Surprise registered on Frank’s face a half second, and she saw him glance at the gun near her hand. She didn’t know if Ian could see it, so she took a chance. “He’s got a gun, Ian. It’s by my left hand.” “Thanks, babe.” Ian’s voice was ragged with accent and anger. “But we won’t need weapons, will we Frank?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Frank’s smile echoed the sarcasm in his voice. “I think we should approach this like reasonable men, don’t you, Frank?” Ian asked. Frank glanced down at her. “Who is he?” “A friend,” she said. Frank threw a glance at Ian. “Just a friend?” She nodded. “Yes.” “Should I kill him?” Frank asked her. “No.” The word shot out of her. “No. There doesn’t need to be any killing.”
