Rowan shut the door behind us and locked it. I stepped back, taking my time as I studied Ella.
She rushed toward her father—then froze halfway across the room.
Nick stood between the two beds.
“You,” she breathed.
“How does she know Nick?” I asked quietly.
“He ran into her at the hospital earlier today,” Rowan murmured.
“Did you bring your torch?” Nick asked, flicking ash onto her father’s chest.
Her head snapped toward me.
“I don’t really work for the police.”
Her voice trembled as she looked around the room.“What have you done to my dad? And who is she?”
She stared at Sophie.
There was a perfect circular burn mark on Sophie’s cheek. I clenched my jaw. She could have cost us everything.
“I paid your father a visit,” Nick said calmly, lifting a scalpel from the metal tray.“He owes us money. Claimed you’d pay every penny back.”
“Did you have to bring her in like that?” Rowan hissed, his eyes flicking to her face.“How the fuck am I supposed to take that seriously? She looks like a Halloween costume that went horribly wrong.”
“I managed,” I replied.
“Yeah, but I’m not a sociopath.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I did my part.”
“Please,” she whispered.“Please don’t hurt him.”
Poor little avocado.
I dragged a chair across the plastic-covered floor and sat down.
“Miss Constantine,” Rowan said smoothly.“You can save your father.”
She turned slowly to look at him.
“But it will cost you.”
“How much?” she asked, barely audible.
Rowan smiled.
“Everything you have.”
Chapter 8
Rowan
Her eyes were wide, lips parted, but all it really did was draw attention to the pale green face mask. More importantly, I could feel her unease—the way her gaze flicked around the room, trying to make sense of us. She looked between her unconscious father and Sophie, torn. She wanted to go to him, but Nick’s scalpel kept her rooted to the spot.
