Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Then the waiting began.
Ricky had so kindly allowed her to sit on the couch but less kindly kept his gun trained on her the entire time. Pete sent her frequent leering glances as he and Ricky laughed over stupid story after stupid story like they were sitting around a campfire instead of waiting to serve her up on a platter.
Every noise, every car that drove by, had her jumping in fear and holding her breath until they found out if Buster had arrived. She’d scanned the inside of the house at least a hundred times, searching for anything to help her. But there wasn’t much aside from a big-screen television, a recliner that held Pete, and the couch she and her brother sat on. There was a dying plant in one corner of the den and a small kitchen table in the eating nook one room over. Nothing useful.
With each passing minute, her anxiety ramped up until she glanced down and realized she’d picked her nails to shreds. Squeezing her fists closed, she tried to control her rapidly-rising heart rate and slow her breathing.
But then she heard it.
A key in the door.
The jingle of the knob.
Daisy’s heart leaped into her throat.
Her palms grew damp, and her chest tightened.
The door opened, and Buster strode into the room. “Where’s my package? What the fuck is he doing here?” He scowled as he noticed Ricky. “You got my money, asshole?”
Pete laughed. “He brought you a gift to replace what he took.” He picked up a jar from the floor and spat a wad of brown liquid into it.
A slow, creepy grin expanded across Buster’s bruised face. “Did he?”
Daisy wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to see the lustful gleam in his malicious eyes, and if she blinked, something might happen to her.
“Consider it a gesture of good faith,” Ricky said as he stood from the couch. He lowered his gun and faced Buster.
For the first time in hours, she was without a weapon immediately threatening her life, but she couldn’t go anywhere. They’d be on her before she could take two steps. And she couldn’t fight them off. She had no skills in that area, and each man had a good fifty pound-plus on her. She’d learned that the hard way last night.
“I don’t want a gesture. I want my money and my drugs.”
“You’ll have them,” Ricky said. “Well, you’ll have the money, plus extra when I sell the drugs to my customers.”
Buster turned on him. “You trying to tell me you can get more than what we sell for?”
“Considerably more,” Ricky said, nodding. “But I need two weeks.”
Daisy felt like she was at a tennis match, swinging her gaze left and right as she watched the competitors face off. Unfortunately, she was the prize at the end of the game.
Buster’s laugh raked down her spine like nails on a chalkboard. “Two weeks. You’re out of your fucking mind. I’m not convinced you can even pull it off. Why would I give you two goddamn weeks?”
“Because I’m giving you collateral.”
Daisy gasped.
Collateral?
“Oh, really?” Buster’s gaze swung to her.
Daisy crossed her arms over her chest, anything to prevent the feeling of being undressed by this disgusting man’s eyes.
“You’re saying I get to keep her for two weeks, and at the end of that, you’re going to give me the money you stole from me, plus extra money when you sell my drugs.”
No. No. No.
She had to have misunderstood. Ricky was her brother, for God’s sake, not a damn sociopath.
“Ricky,” she whispered with despair washing over her.
“I’m sorry, sis. It’s the only way.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. “You’re sorry?” As though his apology made one bit of difference. “You’re a monster.”
Ricky narrowed his eyes then focused on Buster once again. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But I will keep a cut of the money for myself since I’m the one doing all the work. When this is done, you bring me in as a partner and let my sister go.”
Daisy laughed a hysterical on-the-edge-of-control laugh. Like it would matter by then? After two weeks at Buster’s mercy, she’d be a hollow shell. She’d be ruined.
She’d rather be dead. At least then she’d be with Moose.
Fresh pain joined her terror.
God, Moose. How was it possible to miss someone so fiercely after only knowing them for such a short time?
“You pull off this shit, and we’ll chat. But I accept your deal.” He strode toward her with a hungry gleam in his battered eyes.
She trembled. A man like him would get off on her fear. He’d want to see her beg and plead to be set free. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to deny him that satisfaction, but could she? Would she be able to endure without shattering into a million begging pieces?
Be strong for Moose.