Vaughn recovered fast and swung back. Cade caught his shirt, drove him into the table and sent the photographs skidding over the sticky wood. Vaughn laughed even as blood touched the corner of his mouth.
That laugh did it.
“Stop!” I shouted.
Neither listened.
Cade drew back to hit him again and I moved without thinking.
I stepped between them.
Both men froze.
The room held its breath with them.
My chest rose and fell too quickly. Cade’s arm was still half lifted. Vaughn stood a foot away, smiling through blood, his eyes bright with the same dangerous amusement that had first warned me he was something uglier than his face suggested.
“Touch each other again and I will call the police myself,” I said.
No one spoke.
I looked at Vaughn first.
“What happened in that hotel room was n
