And for some stupid reason, I decided not to listen.
Chapter 24
CALISTA
For a man who got caught red-handed, Christopher has no problem filling the silence.
“Darling.” His eyes skate across my face, lingering on the bright colour of my lipstick, “You never fail to ruin my evening.”
“I aim to please.”
“One of these days, I would really love to be disappointed.”
Marlin cocks his head to the side, studying our interaction with something close to amusement. It’s always hard to tell with him, given his limited emotional capacity, but I suppose that’s what happens when a man is stiffer than the expensive suits he loves to wear.
“Did you bring it?”
I pass the jar over and Marlin wastes no time dropping the eyeball inside. It bounces and bobs around the transparent liquid, the strong smell of chemicals wafting through the air.
“I thought your mother’s stint selling human organs was finished.”
“It is.” He sighs, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his hands clean, “This is simply a welcome home present. You would not believe the number of hours she’s spent moaning over the loss of Anton’s irises.”
I snicker, watching the fleshy orb swim around the jar some more.
“And to think, your little plaything is the one to blame."
Marlin makes a noncommittal sound, his attention already back on the thief who’s rooting around his cargo pants for a weapon.
“Before you make a fool of yourself yet again this evening, I suggest you keep the safety locked on that trigger.”
Christopher’s dark brows pinch together, the gun already halfway in his hands.
“And if I’m not good at following orders?”
“Then Finley will meet his untimely end.” Marlin sighs as if the thought is too much to bear, “And given I am on a tight schedule, I’m afraid that end will be now.”
A heartbeat of silence goes by.
“Fine.”
“Fine.” Marlin echoes the word, his brow lifting slightly, “Is that supposed to be an answer?”
“Are you supposed to be this much of a dick?”
“If you are asking to compare sizes, I am more than happyto take mine out.”
Christopher glares back at him, his paper thin t-shirt and shaggy hair serving as the stark opposition to Marlin’s glossy surface. The two men face off like a couple of dogs at the shelter, the rescue mutt going up against the groomed poodle who’s already wearing a collar.
Sophisticated and polished versus rough and scrappy.
“Just tell me what I have to do to get Finley out.”
I can hear the wheels of Marlin’s big brain churning, his thoughtful stare a little bit more intrigued now that his opponent has shown some resistance.
Poor thing has no idea for what he’s in for.
“I’ve always considered myself to be a man of fair favour. Someone who believes in poetic justice. An eye for an eye, so to speak.”
