Rett jerked back, his face a mask of pain and fear, those stormy eyes seeking me out like he needed a lifeline.
I scooped him up and sat down with him in my lap, wrapping my body around his and intentionally holding the gun where he could see it. I hoped he understood the silent message that, if Tommy came a calling, it was his funeral and not mine.
Pip’s muscles stayed tense, but after a moment, he leaned into me. I pressed a whisper of a kiss to the top of his head, hoping he felt it.
I was the captain of the don’t stress Rett team. But I mean, if he had to be stressed, having it be due to my alleged demise… Well, it wasn’t the worst option.
“I’ll come alone. But only if you leave Ghost out of this,” Rett declared.
I did not approve of this dialogue.
Forget what I said. This was exactly why my little pipgeek needed to live a peaceful life. He wasn’t made for trauma, even if he seemed to think he was.
Tommy laughed. “Fine. But just in case he tries to convince you he’s bulletproof, I’ve added a little more incentive for you to get the job done.”
A pained wail echoed through the line. “Ahhhhhhh… sssstoppppp!”
Please, did he think sounds of torturewere going to work like that? I’d heard goats scream louder.
Rett gasped and clutched the phone tighter. “Wyatt!” he yelled. “Wyatt, is that you?”
Fuck.I guess sounds of torture would be successful after all.
“Tommy!” Rett yelled, completely worked up now. “What have you done? Is that Wyatt?”
First of all,who is Wyatt? And why was Rett getting more upset at his demise than mine?
Tommy could just kill him. No loss here.
Tommy cackled into the line. He sounded like a villain in a Disney movie. “I’m surprised you recognized him from a scream.”
And then Wyatt—whoever he was—wailed again.
“Stop!” Rett yelled, leaping out of my lap to pace. “What are you doing? Don’t hurt him!”
“Oh, he’s fine. He’s just been passed out for so long that I was beginning to worry. Just powering him up a bit so he can say hi.”
Making Rett listen to a man being electrocuted? Remember when I said Enzo could kill him and it wouldn’t matter? I lied. This guy was mine, and I was going to make it hurt.
“Wyatt,” Rett yelled, holding the phone right in front of his mouth. “Wyatt, are you okay?”
The line was quiet for a moment, and Pip glanced at me with a helpless expression. I got up and reached for the phone.
“Rett? Is that y-you?” a strained voice came over the line.
Rett clutched the phone back. “Yes, I’m here. Wyatt, whathappened? Why are you with Tommy?”
“I don’t remember,” he slurred. “I don’t feel too good. Can you pick me up?”
“Where are you?” Rett yelled, but Wyat was replaced by Tommy.
“Midnight tomorrow. Go to the address you’re given, and once you get there, I’ll let your little homeless friend go.”
“Listen to me, you asshole,” Rett said, his voice dropping into an octave I’d never heard before. “If you hurt Wyatt even a little, my attack dog will be the nicest thing that comes your way.”
Okayyy, Evel Knievel.
“Just come and do your job, and no one will get hurt.” A heavy pause. “Except you.”
