“Just a sec.”
The door closes again and I spit at Tats: “What did you say?You keep him, then?”
This time, he rolls his eyes. “You think they want that? To be stuck with someone else’s crew member? There was no chance he would keep him.”
“And those two pounds? Where are we going to get those?” I’m seriously pissed off. What the hell is he thinking?
“We’ll sort that out with your dad. He anticipates some form of compensation from us. And your dad will sort it out with Brooks.” He pulls a cigarette out of the pack I’m still holding and lights it. “Relax, kid. We’ll get ‘im back. That was the plan, remember?”
I run a hand over my face. Yeah, that was the plan, but I’m not sure this is the best solution.
“Damn, I would’ve loved to get my hands on ‘im,” Crusher mutters behind me.
“You swing them around way too often.” I shake my head and light my cigarette just as the door opens again. A battered Brooks is thrown against my chest with his wrists tied together, forcing me to take a step back. Thank God the lighter is still unlit, otherwise I probably would’ve set one of us on fire.
“Untie him at home before he causes any more damage.” Torres turns to Tats. “Two weeks, no exceptions, or we’ll be back on your doorstep, understood?”
“Will do.” He moves his index finger from his forehead to Torres.
Then the door slams shut and Tats hits Brooks over his head, causing him to visibly cringe. “Are you completely out of your mind, kid?” Shaking his head, he walks to his motorcycle and stomps out his cigarette. “Get on.”
Twenty-Nine
Myearsarestillringing. Next to me, Jen’s corpse swings from the hooks that pierce the ceiling.
My whole body trembles as the man in the black suit from earlier storms in. “What the hell was that?” He glares at Karl, then at us. His eyes widen and when he turns around, he punches Karl hard across the jaw. His head snaps back and I hear a satisfying crack. “What the fuck did you do? Have you got any brains in that head of yours?”
Tears stream down my nose and drip onto the floor.
“What?” Karl holds his nose, blood seeping out. “That bitch wasn’t worth much. Look at her, Vanderberg.”
“Thatbitchis Ballistic Brooks Paisley’s wife.”
With my eyes fixed on the floor to hide my tears, I bite my lip, trying to stop them.
“And?” He shrugs his shoulders.
Vanderberg places his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. “Do you have any idea why that man is nicknamed Ballistic?”
Karl chuckles and shakes his head.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Get her out of here,” he says to the blond guy and nods at Jen.
“Where do you want her, boss?” He walks over to Jen. I gasp for air when I see his fingers coming up to unhook Jen’s hands.
“In the cooler for now. The longer we can keep him in the dark, the more time we have.” I hear his shoes shuffling across the floor. “Get out of here.”
“Seriously, boss? I just…” Karl responds.
“Get the fuck out.”
I flinch and squeeze my eyes shut.
The sound of footsteps is followed by a profound sigh. “I’m sorry, ladies. Can you look at me? We’ll be done soon and you can go back to your cells.”
Fucking asshole. Trembling, I open my eyes.
I take a deep breath, lift my head, and stare at the ceiling, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
