Slipping her cell into my back pocket, I turned on the faucet then pushed her under the running water until she was gasping for air. Only then did I retrieve her cell, drag her out of the filthy sink, and unlock the interface with Face ID.
“You can behave or I can waterboard you. Your choice.”
I took her sobbing as agreement to behave.
Flicking a look at Chad, who shut off the faucet, I tapped into her settings and disconnected the Face ID feature once I’d changed the passcode.
That done, I scanned her messages.
One name had tension rippling through me.
Agon Prifti.
The Albanian with that underground whorehouse in Nolita.
The Albanian whose name I’d extracted from one of those morons who’d thought they could hijackRussu…
“Who’s Agon Prifti to you?”
Behind me, Chad grunted in surprise while Dante, partway through a call with Luigi, froze in recognition.
Weeping, Diana swiped a trembling hand over her face to wipe away her tears. “He’s no one.”
Speed-reading their exchanges, I shook my head. “He’s your pimp.” Only recently. The bulk of Prifti’s orders had been sent out today, but he’d kept in touch with her for a couple weeks.
Strange.
All told, their messages numbered fewer than a dozen.
That didn’t stop a full-body shiver from shuttling through her skeletal frame. Fear of me? Or Prifti? “No, he isn’t. I don’t do that anymore.”
“That’s a fucking lie. A dumb one too if you’re carrying around boxes of fucking condoms. Anyway, he tells you which corners to stand on.” My mind raced. “What do you know about a whorehouse in Nolita?”
“I-If you don’t kill me,” she pleaded, “then I’ll tell you everything I know about him.”
Amused, I grinned. She didn’t smile back. If anything, her throat bobbed in terror.
“No, Diana, you’re going to tell me everything you know so I don’t cut out your tonguebeforeI slice your throat. I already told you that it’s your choice how much pain you want to be in when you die, but the second you stepped foot in Manhattan, you signed your death warrant. That’s on you, not me.” I stared her down. “But hey, unlike Prifti, at least I’ll give you a say in how you meet your maker…”
FORTY-FOUR
KITTY
LATER THAT DAY
Stan: You good to meet in forty-five minutes?
Me: I’ll be waiting outside
I didn’t want to sound too eager but…
I was.
And not solely for his company, either.
I’d spent the last two hours contemplating escaping my apartment via the fire escape because my mom was driving me crazy.
In the best, most loving way possible of course, but still.
