“How’s it going, Tiff?” he sneers before he grabs me by the hair and sits me up.
I cry out at the searing pain from his grip in my hair. The excruciating pain in my skull and the throbbing pain in my leg almost make me black out.
Ezra sits me upright and then shoves me against a wall. Looking down at my leg, I can now see where the throbbing is coming from. My leg is broken. The tip of a bone is protruding through my pants leg.
“Where am I?”
I glance around at my surroundings. I’m in some type of old fish processing plant. The tin roof has holes in it. The walls are missing large slabs of metal. Pipes move through the room in organized routes. The ground is covered in dirt, trash, and some type of sludge.
Two large rusted cylinders are at the far end of the rectangular-shaped building. The smell of fish is pungent, and from the sounds of the seagulls and the splashing from outside, I can tell we are right off the lake.
There is a giant hole in the floor. I can tell at some point there were safety railings around it, but they’ve all been torn down.
“Don’t worry, you’re still in the city.” He squats in front of me. “Bet you wish you would’ve given me a chance now, don’t you?”
Hell no. He rubs his nose and sniffs.
“Cause I have your pretty little wife.”
I turn to the sound of the familiar voice. Lauren is pacing the dirty floor while she talks on the phone. Standing beside her is her supposed husband. He looks just as bad as Ezra. They look nothing like the wealthy family I met.
“That’s right.” Ezra’s comment has me turning back to him. “You’ve been played.”
My brain is muddled, still probably dealing with the concussion from the wreck. But I try to think back to everything I know. Everything about Ezra looked legit.
The house was really in his name. Although I couldn’t verify the Bankman stuff, it was obvious he was an artist by the painting he made of me. What the hell did I miss?
“If you want to see your wife again, little brother, you’re going to follow my rules,” Lauren’s voice brings me back to the present.
“It takes forty minutes to get from the jail to the old Weberman fishing mill. Come alone, little brother. I have eyes everywhere. If I get an inkling that you’re trying to set up something, I will put a bullet in your bitch’s head.”
Benjamin laughs. Lauren’s hazel gaze turns to me.
“And you better hurry.” She grins. “Ezra is dying to sample her.” With those last words, she hangs up the phone.
Benjamin walks over to her, wrapping her in his arms. “You pulled that off smoothly, baby. I can’t believe how well this went. You really think we can get away with millions?”
So that’s what this was about. Lauren or Marissa was after Nico’s money.
She grins. “More like billions.” She turns to me with a glare. “It all depends on how much Nic loves his little wife.”
“Trust me.” Ezra lifts his bandaged hand with a frown. “He loves her.” He stands upright before going over to the couple.
“Give me a hit.”
Benjamin pulls something out of his coat pocket. It’s a small bag with a white powdery substance. He hands it over to Ezra, who pours some onto the side of his hand where the thumb and forefinger meet, then sniffs it into his nose. I turn away from the sight.
“Do you like stories, Tiffany?” Marissa announces as she walks over to me.
She squats down in front of me. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail. The grin on her face is so evil, dread slides down my spine.
“Let me tell you the story of a little girl born into a too small box. I’m not sure how much my brother has told you about his past, especially since he changed his name, but he and I were born to simple parents.
“My mother was a nurse, and my father was a very intelligent man. One of those guys with a high IQ. When he was in his early twenties, he developed a brilliant computer program. One that companies paid top dollar for.”
She stands up straight, runs a hand down her pants and paces.
“He and his best friend went into business together. My father, the brains of the company, and his friend, the mouthpiece. For years they did well. My family was wealthy, but my parents weren’t showy.
