“We’re going to call your sister.”
Bucket of water? Hello.
“We?”
“Me. You’ll listen.”
I tucked my hands under my armpits, oddly disappointed. I both wanted to meet Mila and was terrified by the idea. “Why?”
“To talk about the Marchant shite. I went further than I intended last night with the first on your list but left him alive so ye had the choice. Before we take another step, we need information.”
He meant Sullivan, my would-be rapist. “What did you do to him?”
Tyler held my gaze, something careful in his. “Do ye really want to know?”
I chewed my lip. Though I worked in a warehouse run by a dangerous gang, I’d noped out of the details of how they handled other men. I knew they killed. Tyler did that on the regular. I’d seen him return bloodied.
Just like last night.
I let my mind go to a dark place where he held Sullivan’s life in his grip. My breathing turned shallow. “Did he scream?”
Tyler didn’t hide a cold smile. “Often.”
Such swagger in that one word. Such a thrill it gave me.
“Walk me through it. Just a little.”
“I discovered his address. A luxury new-build on a quiet road. All boxy and grey. I set up monitoring around the perimeter and watched it for a while until I was sure he wasn’t there, or anyone else. He came home, I was already inside.”
I leaned in, loving how the hunter had become the hunted. “And then?”
“He strolled into the hall, tossed his coat, and kicked off his shoes. Dumb fuck checked nothing. I stepped out of a doorway, he froze, one hit and he was out. Disgustingly easy.”
“Did he look scared?”
Tyler smiled. “He did. The comfort of home slipped from his face, fear replacing it.”
I exhaled a breathy laugh, liking that far too much. “What did you do next?”
“Hauled him over my shoulder, trudged down a hedge line, and chucked him into the boot of my car. He was arrogant. No real security.”
“He thought he was untouchable.”
Tyler’s eyes gleamed. “He was wrong.”
Neither of us spoke. Sullivan had hurt me, and now he was suffering in exchange. Pretty poetic justice in action.
“He’ll be ready and waiting whenever ye want to handle him. Tomorrow, in a week, there’s no rush. In fact, the longer he waits, the more time he has to consider his actions.” Tyler pulled a face. “If he’s able to think right now. He talked when he woke at the other end and I lost my shit.”
“Thank you. I don’t know if I said.”
His twisted, rueful smile warmed me through.
I tapped a finger on his phone, noting how I really needed a manicure. What a wacky thought amidst those of rapists and traffickers. “Thank you for telling me. Now you can make the call.”
He searched his contacts and dialled Convict. My heart squeezed. Con was one of my favourite people on the crew. Happy, open manners, somewhat ditzy. He’d been my friend, and I’d dropped him just like I’d dropped everyone else.
The call connected, Convict’s groggy voice coming through. “Hey, man.”
