My tongue feels too heavy for my mouth. How much of this is hangover, and how much is concussion? Not that it matters.
Relief flashes across Sammy’s blue eyes and my chest tightens. Shit. Why do people trust me? Why do they look at me as if I am their savior? I’ll only let them down. Like I did Gray.
A shudder wracks my body. No. I’m not letting Sammy down. He is getting out of here. If it is the last thing I ever do.
Heavy footsteps sound behind me. Three sets. It is so hard not to flinch. But these bastards are getting nothing from me. Not even the satisfaction of my unease.
The three asswipes come into view. I vaguely recognize them. They work for Nikolai’s boss. Faceless, characterless minions. Unimportant and stupid. They never would have caught me if I hadn’t been blind drunk.
Shame burns through me and I angrily shove it down. What is done is done. I fucked up, but I need to deal with the consequences before I feel sorry for myself.
“Where is the cash, Mal?”
Straight to the point. I like it. If only I knew what the fuck they were on about. But I guess it is clear enough. It doesn’t require great powers of deduction to figure it out.
Nikolai was fucking around. Gray ended him and now the creep and the money he stole are missing. And these assholes think I have something to do with it. Shit. This is bad news. A slap on the wrist for murdering Nikolai is one thing, stealing the big boss’s money is quite another.
“Don’t know what you are talking about,” I say.
Funny how I can speak the truth to these slimeballs, but not the man I love. It’s ironic. Painful. Pointless.
I’m finally being truthful, and they aren’t even going to believe me. Not until they have tortured the fuck out of me. Or Sammy. I swallow tightly and nearly choke on my own saliva.
One of the henchmen sighs. He has beady eyes but is clearly the most intelligent of the three.
“I ain’t got time for this, Mal.” He gestures at his friends. “Untie the whore, let’s show Mal here how serious we are.”
My shoulders flex, and I pull against my bonds. I can’t help it. It’s instinctual, like pulling my hand out of a fire. But it does no good. These are some fucking boy scout knots. I’m not going anywhere. I wish I was strong enough to cast magic without hand movements. These fuckers have neutered me without even realizing it.
As they untie Sammy, I struggle against my ropes. I can’t even move enough to align any of my tattoos and fire off magic that way. I’m helpless. Useless. Defeated by some fucking ropes and a trio of losers.
“Why are you taking it out on a dumb whore? Don’t have the balls to take on a real man?” I spit.
All three stop what they are doing and glare at me. Idiots.
“Come on boys, I’m tied to a chair. You don’t need to be scared,” I drawl. Then I give them my best grin, for good measure.
Like some frigging cerberus or hydra, the three goons flush red and take a step towards me. One brain between them, clearly.
But this is great. If I can get them to rough me up, Sammy will be spared, and the action may loosen my ropes enough for me to actually be able to do something.
“Is that as close as you’re brave enough to get?” I smirk.
The distance between us vanishes as they rush forward. The first punch whites out my vision. I barely feel the rest. But fuck, they aren’t messing around. This attack is savage.
They step back panting, and I spit blood out of my mouth. Thank fuck that’s over. At least I can see again now. But I still can’t move an inch. What kind of flipping ropes are these?
I give them a bloody, malevolent grin.
Their eyes widen. One of them steps forward, fists raised, but Beady Eyes grabs his arm and stops him.
“No, he is playing us so we don’t hurt his boy toy.”
Not so dumb after all. Just my luck.
My gaze flicks over to Sammy, but he is not there. He is nearly at the exit, dragging the chair he is still half tied to with him. Smart boy.
The goons race after him and drag him back. Sammy wriggles like a goldfish, but it does no good. These men are twice the size of him.
