“He’s awake,” someone announced.
I tried not to react, but I was pretty sure I stiffened. I mean, it was unnerving to know people were staring at you but you couldn’t see them.
The zip tie around my neck was uncomfortably tight. Nottight enough to cut off my air supply but enough to have panic crackling beneath my skin. I did my best to ignore it, taking shallow, even breaths so it didn’t squeeze tighter. But that was hard too.
“Take the bag off his head,” someone said.
Rough hands grabbed me, and I tried to stay motionless.
“Wait.” Tommy’s voice stopped them. “I like the way he looks with a collar around his neck. Leave it on.”
I expected the hands to pull away, but something blunt stabbed through the bag, narrowly missing my eye. If I’d had my glasses on, they would have surely shattered. Hiro had wanted me to wear them, but I refused. I couldn’t wear something so new and nice to a gangster meeting. I mean, look at what they did to my watch!Should have left that home too.
Wincing reflexively, I skittered back, nearly falling off the chair as the sound of tearing fabric echoed in my ears. Bright light flooded my eyes when the fabric dropped onto my shoulders, still clenched around my throat with the zip tie. I recoiled, squinting against the spotlight shining directly on me. It was hot and blinding, making me wish the bag was still shielding my face.
Something sticky tickled the side of my face, and I reached up to see what it was, but my arms only lifted a couple inches before being wrenched back. Blinking, I looked down, noting my hands were cuffed to the chair.
“Rett!” a familiar voice called, and I lifted my head, squinting through the harsh light to try and make out a face.
“Wyatt?” I called.
“Rett, over here!”
I turned toward the voice as the sound of skin cracking against skin cut through the air.
“Do you ever shut up?” someone yelled.
“Wyatt,” I called. “Wyatt, are you okay?”
He didn’t answer, but I saw his shape a few feet away. It looked like he was in the same type of chair, his hands probably bound too.
“Why are you doing this?” I said into the room.
“Because you owe me,” Tommy said, materializing in front of the light, his body blocking it enough that I could see.
“Why did you have to bring Wyatt into it?” I asked. “He didn’t do anything.”
“He’s good bait. Just like you.”
What does that mean?“Bait for who?”
“Enzo Salvatore, of course,” Tommy said. “The strongest of the Salvatore brothers. Once I take him out, the others will follow.”
“You think you’re going to kill Enzo?” I echoed.
I mean, I always knew Tommy was a little short in the brain department, but this was beyond dumb.
“I tried to go about it a different way, but he didn’t seem to think I was good enough to level up. He didn’t mind using all my customers, but he didn’t want to pay me for it,” Tommy shared.
“Enzo didn’t pay you?”
“Not what I’m worth.”
“So you’ve been stealing drugs to sell them on the side?” I asked.
“You aren’t as stupid as you look,” Tommy mused. Then, “Well, that attack dog of yours isn’t. Without him, I would have had you dealing already.”
“I’m not dealing drugs for you,” I said. How many times was I going to have to tell him?
