Burglarizing Robby's shitty Vogel trailer two months earlier had revealed his whole universe to me in a single photo. The grainy picture of Jade, and Jing wearing her world's-proudest-Mom grin, had hit me like a ton of bricks. Compared to Robby's entire universe my thirst to fund my vengeance had felt like the dumbest pettiest shit.
Crumpled on Mira al Assad's patterned tiles in a mess of tears and snot, right then my tunnel vision revealed my entire universe: Dante in the final seconds before I lost him forever.
"Please don't hurt him. Please don't hurt him." I'd sobbed the words so many times that I had no idea what they meant anymore. White-hot terror licking up my insides at the sight of her, of Zaki, of Dante with a gun to his neck, yet all I had in me was useless fucking tears. Afraid to move a single digit in case Zaki used it as an excuse to send Dante the same place he'd sent Steph, I sniveled on. "I'm begging you. I'll give you anything you want. Please don't hurt him. Please."
She glided toward me on light feet, acid avalanching through my guts with every inch she came closer. I'd always thought I'd be an avenging angel propelled by indignant fury on seeing her again, but my limbs dangled, leaden. Muscles ground against tendons with the need to punch, to shove, to fight. Nothing moved.
Instead, her icy hand on my cheek had me whimpering like a beaten dog. Long fingers trailed along my jaw, probed at my ear, and slid my earpiece out.
She held it to her lips and hissed, "Ya sharmouta," then tossed it to the floor, crushing it under a tiny boot.
Fuck.
For the first time in two months I didn't have Sylvia Payne mewling instructions or threats into my ear. Without my intel Sylvia would have to make the call when to send in the Marines. If at all.
Dante, Rayan and me were totally alone.
The thought occurred to me to strike some kinda bargain for Dante, but I dashed it to the tiles. She was not a woman who made bargains. Besides, even if I had something she wanted, it was probably worth about a millionth to her of what Dante was worth to me, and she knew that.
No other options left, I gave myself up to a fresh flurry of snot and tears. "Please let him go. You got Rayan. You got the American business deals you wanted. You won. You don't need him. Please let him go. I'm begging you."
She pointed a lazy finger across the room. "Who is he?"
Torture me, maim me, kill me. She'd never know anything about Dante's connection to Stephanie Grey. His life depended on it.
Like she could read my thoughts, she held aloft Dante's phone with a smile. "María Police Department." Of course, she didn't need to ask me who Dante was. She already knew everything. "They sent this boy to capture Rayan."
"No," I growled through my tears, "To save Rayan. From you."
She shrugged. "Americans."
Two guards materialized outta the shadowy doorways beyond the living room, AK-47s sighted on me.
"Rayan belongs here. As do you. The Demon has plans for you."
My fingers inched to my tattoo. "The Demon was nothing but poisoned ink. It doesn't exist."
"Doesn't it?"
Like it had heard my heresy, something sickly and rotten stirred in my gray matter.
"María PD will destroy you if you hurt Dante. They know about your plan to market unregulated medical equipment. You'll be put on trial by an international ethics court. No Demon can change that."
YOU ARE READING
Something Wicked 🏳️🌈 (bxb)
ParanormalGet out of jail, get yet another crappy criminal henchman job, get his hotshot lawyer ex-girlfriend back. Oh yeah -- and get a murderous demon exorcised from his head. Jason Torres has his route back from rock-bottom perfectly planned out, right? Th...
