Fuck.
“I’m sorry.” I run my tongue over the inside of my cheek. Flesh is torn where I took a fist at some point.
“Why? Did you kill her?”
Her reply leaves me speechless for a second. Only a second, though.
“If I did, they’d never be able to pin it on me.”
She stares at me for a moment.
Okay. That was too much. Apologize, you dick.
She snorts. And then she’s laughing.
“You’re pretty funny for a wanker. Now sod off. I didn’t ask for your help.”
Wanker? Sod off?
The posh accent is all fancy private school brat. But that attitude? It’s pure alley cat.
Fuck. I like it. I like it a lot.
Wind your neck in, Caraldi. The girl’s fucking jailbait.
I look away without responding. I know trouble when I see it. Besides, I have other things to worry about. Vassily is back. He stops at my cell, opens the door, and yanks me roughly to my feet, spinning me around. Another yank has the bands off my wrists.
“Make call,” he snaps, shoving my phone at me. I flex my fingers to get the blood flowing.
Fuck.
My fingertips are numb. I fumble with the device, glad to see there’s still a sliver of battery life indicated. A moment later, Mario’s voice is on the line.
“Boss! What the fuck?! We—”
“Quiet. I need you to do as I say.” I feel Vassily’s eyes on me as I relay instructions. The Russian provides account details, and I make the arrangements for the wire transfer.
“Plus fifty for the girl,” the fucking Russian adds.
“But we agreed on—”
“Fifty for the girl. Or I keep her myself.” He stops and seems to consider this as he stares at her. “Yes. I keep her.”
I feel a surge of anger. Not a shred of honor in these assholes.
“You don’t want her. She’ll be bad for business. You can see that already. Besides, it’ll take too long to break her.” I keep my voice steady.
“Screw you, tosser!” the girl yells. I ignore her, keeping my eyes trained on Vassily.
“Boss?” Mario is still on the line. Vassily sneers at me, then looks at the girl.
“Fine. You have her. I don’t like her anyhow. She look like boy.”
I don’t respond. There’s nothing boyish about her. The swell of full breasts have been exposed beneath the torn shirt. Encased in white lace… Fuck.
“Add 50k to the transfer,” I tell Mario.
“Hey! What about the others?” the girl interrupts. I keep ignoring her. There’s only so much I can do, and Vassily and his boys will never let them go without a fight. I’ll have to figure something out later. But this one…I aim another look at the delicate features that are twisted in rage.
