Green steps back but not before giving me a long considering look from his blue eyes behind his mask. I jut my chin toward Black like I’m giving permission for him to leave and it makes his small grin widen.
The three of them crowd around the counter where Black has placed the duffle bag and I hear it being unzipped but I can’t see what’s in it from the chair I’m tied to. They whisper to each otherquietly enough that I can’t make out the words and I take the time to study their backs.
I can’t see much of them with those long black cloaks they wear but they don’t disguise the wide shoulders that stretch them tight. I follow the cloaks down to their exposed feet and see two sets of tightly tied black boots with black pants tucked into them but the third pair has my eyes narrowing as I study the unlaced boots with an inch of faded denim showing. Unless I’ve missed my mark, and I rarely do, I’ve seen those boots before. Like the day before. A vision of an angry man in a suit yelling and pointing a thrusting finger flashes through my mind. A small smirk forms on my lips. I’d bet my next cocktail that Black Mask is the hot Mr. Red Flag I spotted yesterday on my way here.
Blue
The man in question looks over his shoulder at me and under his hard eyes, my smirk spreads into a full-on grin. Whatever he sees in my expression has him snarling and spinning my way. He takes a few stomps toward me and reaches his hand to wrap around my throat, pinning me against the chair's backrest. That fourth cocktail must have kicked in because it’s the only thing that explains what I say to him in response to his rough treatment.
“Harder, Daddy.”
Black’s dark blue eyes flare in surprise and his fingers flex around my throat.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks in bafflement.
“That’s a very long, detailed list that will require us to switch from cocktails to shots for me to lay it all out,” I tell him holding his gaze steady.
His other hand comes up to his face and he swipes his thumb back and forth across his full bottom lip as he contemplates the crazy he’s landed in with me.
“What’s your play here? You think you’re going to flirt your way out of those ropes? Make your move to hit an alarm or escape? It’s not going to fucking work. We aren’t going to risk getting caught for a sexy piece of ass.”
I huff a laugh. “So…You think I’m sexy?”
His fingers flex around my throat again and it makes me squirm a little in place but I take pity on him and stop playing with a sigh.
“Fine. Clearly, me not being all a tizzy is taking up all the oxygen in your brain space so let me make it clear for you. My guess is you three ran a con or a game tonight and whatever’s in that bag was the prize. Something must have messed up your exit strategy to have you busting in here instead of making a clean getaway. One of us cares about that and the other one is me. I’m here to make a paycheck from a couple of rich assholes and then move on. You do what you have to do and then fuck off and we’re quits. As far as I’m concerned, you three were never here. That last thing I need is to be dragged into shit with the cops. Is that clear enough for you?”
He studies me for a few beats and then his hand drops away from my throat.
“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Like I said - I don’t care what you’re up to, I don’t want to talk to the cops, and even if I did, I can’t identify you so you have no reason to hurt me.”
His hand flashes back up to my throat and he leans toward me unit his face gets close enough to mine that I can see the flecks of greys and blues in his eyes.
His voice is a soft growl when he asks, “Do you want me to hurt you?”
I swallow against the fingers on my throat and bite my bottom lip before telling him in all seriousness, “That…that is a completely different conversation that will involve the use of safe words.”
His eyes crash closed for a beat and then drop down to take a good look at my cleavage before he shakes his head. The grip he has on my throat turns into a brief caress and then he steps back from me with a slight smile.
“In another place, another time, I would be open to that conversation.”
I give him my best pout. “Shame.”
Black turns away and waves a hand at his buddies and then flips his hood off and shrugs out of his cloak, tossing it onto the counter next to the duffle bag.
“One of you go watch out the front. We’ll settle in and wait until the cops clear out before slipping away.”
The other two follow suit and strip off their robes causing me to bite my tongue hard so it doesn’t roll out of my mouth and start panting. All three of them are stacked. Tight black t-shirts stretch over tattoo-covered muscle in the best way possible. I keep the groan trapped in my throat that threatens to escape at the thought of how easily such muscles could toss me around. Fuck, I really need to get laid. It’s been way too long.
I mentally add that to my to-do list for when this job is over as I note the handguns in Red and Green’s waistbands and the wicked-looking knife sheathed on Black’s belt.
I’m not picking up any vibes that make me think they’ll hurt me but the night is young and my mouth has a mind of its own that frequently gets me in trouble. I’ll have to be very careful here.
I settle back to watch and wait, taking in as much information as I can but eventually get bored and my mind wanders. Black wanted to know why I wasn’t scared. He has no idea what scared looks like, but I do. Watching the person you love most in the world deteriorate before your very eyes? Counting each ragged breath and exhale and praying it won’t be the last one? The helplessness that consumes a person, especially knowing that it could be fixed with a simple medication that’s been stolen and placed out of reach? That level of fear is something I’ve been through and I promised myself I’d never allow that mind-destroying, all-consuming type of scared to invade my life again. So, fuck them and their weapons and threats. I’ve already been through a nightmare. This… This is just a fucking game and I always win.
Green
