Grace stiffened, brittle as glass. She’d been searching for her sister since the beginning of this damn odyssey, clinging to any thread that might lead us to Amorette. After waiting for months and wading through threat after threat, we now had Sinclair for her.
He was lying there, alive, uninjured—so far—and very conscious. If that didn’t twist something inside of her, I’d be shocked.
We all knew it. Felt it.
Voodoo shifted his stance, putting himself between Grace and Ignacio once again. Bones stayed firmly planted next to her, as much ready to shield her as to back her play. Alphabet kept a watchful eye on both as the tension in the room shifted and swirled around our pair of prisoners.
For his part, Sinclair’s struggles redoubled and he tried to kick out with his bound legs. Pathetic as the attempt was, we weren’t quite done with Ignacio yet. I planted a boot on Sinclair’s chest, leaning my weight into it and watched his eyes widen as he exhaled harshly through his nose.
I kept the pressure up until his face reddened. Outrage transformed into fear and no small amount of loathing. Guess we weren’t going to be best friends. No loss. “You’re home, Sinclair and as you can see, we’re a little busy, so you need to wait your turn.”
The jerk of his body didn’t even threaten to dislodge me. Instead, it just invited me to lean in even harder. I had my temper fully in check. That was one of the reasons Ignacio was still breathing—for now.
“We’re well past polite invitations,” I informed him. “You had an opportunity to open a line of dialogue. You declined. Now, if you make me knock your ass out, I’m going to be annoyed.”
The man had the good sense to look worried.
“Good, you understand. Now, sit tight and be quiet while we finish with the other piece of shit in the room.” One more little press with my foot and a distinct oof of sound escaped him. Then, and only then, did I lift the weight off and glance back to where everyone else was waiting.
“I think he’s good to wait now.”
While Voodoo didn’t roll his eyes, I could practically feel his need to do it. My attention slid back to Grace, as always. She continued to stare at Ignacio. Something in her expression shifted. Not softer. Not colder. Just—resolute.
She was making her decision.
I wasn’t the only one who saw it because panic slithered across Ignacio’s face where he still lay on the floor. He shot a look at Sinclair, who began to struggle once more. Oh, the noose was tightening and they both knew it.
The smell of desperation and fear in the afternoon—a lovely bouquet, though the notes of fresh urine was kind of ruining it. One of them just pissed themselves but after what Alphabet let me know, I was fine with their brand of inflicted terror coming home to roost.
Sinclair let out another series of muffled demands, but the syllables were impossible to decipher. Ignacio was under no such impediments.
“Pet—”
The so-called endearment had me seeing red, but she lifted one hand in a small yet trembling movement and cut him off like she’d just slapped him.
Voodoo turned to her next. “We don’t move forward without you,” he said quietly. “So… what do you want?”
Ignacio tensed. Sinclair panted harshly, the whistle of air in and out of his nose almost too loud in the space. None of us moved as we waited. Whatever she chose, that was the direction we were going. No hesitation. No second-guessing.
Curling her fingers against her thigh, Grace swung her gaze to where Sinclair lay. “I want answers,” she said in a voice that didn’t waver, not once. “And he has them.”
Far from being relieved to no longer be in her sights, Ignacio snapped a glance to Sinclair. “He will lie!” Ignacio tried to struggle to right his chair, but all he managed to do was flop. “Hedoesn’t know how to do anything but lie. He traded his wife for his lies already…”
Sinclair snarled at Ignacio as Voodoo and I dragged the damn attorney upright. But I pulled out a knife after we dropped him onto the chair. That got all of Sinclair’s attention and Ignacio went silent abruptly.
Not really worried about cutting the attorney, I slid the knife between the gag and his cheek. Slicing the cloth, I freed him from the gag. He would need to be able to talk in order to answer questions.
That done, I glanced from Ignacio to Sinclair then to Voodoo. “You already have thoughts on this?”
“Hmm.” Like me, he glanced at Ignacio for a beat. The man was still wearing his pair of shock collars. “Not particularly. You?”
“Maybe.” I slanted a look at Grace. “You just want answers, Gracie or do you want them asked in a specific way?”
“Just answers,” she said. “You can ask them however you want.”
My girl. I flashed her a grin and a hint of a smile curved her lips, rewarding me for the effort. “Two minutes.”
“Just ask the questions,” Sinclair said as I did a scan of the basement. It was relatively well organized. There was even a stack of additional chairs and other items that could be moved up for parties.
