Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Not even close. I shake my head, biting my lip and setting down my fork. “I really don’t have any more to tell you. Can’t you just let me go?”
“I could. But here’s the problem.” Expression hard, he leans back in his chair. “My brother Blowback came in to talk to you earlier, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s real good at digging up information. So he found out that everything you said to him was a lie. Your name, your birthday, everything. Christina Miller doesn’t exist. You made it all up.”
My heart rate spikes. “I didn’t. Just because I’m not active on Facebook or online doesn’t mean I don’t exist—”
“I’m not talking about Facebook. I’m talking about public records—and some not-so-public records. Every damn thing you said.” A muscle works in his jaw as he stares at me. “So I’ve got to wonder if everything you just said to me now is a lie, too.”
It wasn’t. “It was the truth. It was all the truth.”
“Maybe.” His eyes narrow. “But if what you said is true, then I think what you’re lying about now is claiming that was all you know.”
My throat closes up. And I just stare at him. Because there’s nothing left to do.
He reaches for the whipped cream, squirts a mound onto another piece of pie. “How about we start this again. What’s your name?”
“Christina—”
“No.” He cuts me off almost gently, setting the can aside, leaning in with his gaze searching my face. “You think I don’t get it? You were locked up. Now you’re locked up again. But the difference between here and there is that the second you get out of here, Papa will get you. And maybe you’re thinking that you can run to the cops, but that’s a real bad idea, because a man like Papa will have dirty cops in his pocket.”
I know he does. That’s why I have to go to Matt’s bosses. But I can’t say that.
“But we’ll protect you here,” he says, his voice strong and steady, his gaze unwavering. “You give us Papa, and we’ll take him out. After that, you’ll be safe anywhere you go.”
Oh god. I believe him. And I would do what he said in a heartbeat…if Matt wasn’t still out there. If I didn’t think that Stone and everyone in his club would put a bullet in a member of the Eighty-Eight if they came across him. Even then, Matt is probably safer being known as a Henchman than known as a cop.
My voice is nothing but a strained whisper. “I just don’t have anything more to give you.”
“Maybe you don’t think you do.” Still gentle, he asks, “Where’d they grab you?”
“Las Vegas,” I tell him truthfully.
“Why were you there? Visiting or working?”
“I…” Oh my god. I don’t have a story for this. Because the only people who might have looked at Christina Miller knew exactly how I’d been taken. And they never cared why I was there. But this should be simple. Why do people go to Vegas? “I was with a bachelorette party.”
“Were they nabbed, too? Is that why you fell in line—Papa threatened your friends?”
“No. It was…just me.”
“So there will be a missing person’s report out on you. In Las Vegas, about three months ago.”
Oh my god. Would there be?
But…no. Who would have reported me missing? Who knew I was in Vegas? Only Matt.
So if Stone wants to search down that road… “Maybe,” I tell him.
“Only maybe?” His eyebrows arch. “Nice friends you have there, not caring that you disappeared.”
Shit. “Yeah, they’re all bitches.”
“And you’re lying to me again.”
“No—”
“Why, though? To save your own skin? You’d be better off putting yourself in my hands than in Papa’s.” His eyes narrow. “Are you protecting someone? A friend? Someone at home? We’ll protect them, too.”
And put myself into his strong, capable hands. But that can’t be what he’s really offering. I believe Stone wants Papa. But he has no reason to protect me—and has every reason to hate me.
But this is the danger, isn’t it? Feeling safe here. When I shouldn’t.
“So that’s what this really is,” I say, my heart a heavy and aching lump. “You come in here with turkey and pie, and say you’ll be my friend if I’ll just stop lying. But I’m not the only one who is lying here. Because I’m the last person you’d want as a friend.”
“It’s a shame that you’re so fucking smart.” Those eyes go cold. So cold as he sits back again, spreads his hands. “All right. You want the truth? I’ve got nothing left. Nothing but finding Papa, putting him down. And I don’t even care if it kills me. As long as he’s dead first. So there’s nothing, nothing that’ll put me off getting answers from you.”
A clog burns in my throat. Nothing left. Though he does. I’ve seen how much he has. He’s told me how much he has. A family who loves him and friends who will burn down the world to find him.