"I'm the man signing off on your mother's care." His voice has that easy, greasy warmth it gets right before he says something cold. "Figured that earns me a hello."
"Say what you called to say."
"Direct. I like that in a woman." He smacks his lips, wet and loud. "I need something real on your boy. We talked about this. Weeks now, and you're giving me nothing."
"I told you no."
"You told me no." He laughs, short. "Cute."
"I'm not handing you anything to use against Nico. Not now, not ever. Find another way to justify your paycheck."
"Sweetheart." His voice goes soft on purpose. It always does right before he means to hurt me. "You think this is about my paycheck?"
"I think this is about you being a leech who needs a badge to survive."
"Careful. That badge is the only reason your mother's got a room with a door that locks. For now."
My stomach drops before he even finishes the sentence.
"What does that mean."
"Means I do a lot of favors to keep her comfortable. Calling in guys I trust. Making sure nobody bothers her." He exhales, and I can practically see him leaning back in some cracked leather chair like this is a social call. "Check your messages, baby girl. I sent you something this morning."
The line goes dead before I can answer.
I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it, my whole body gone cold and stupid, and then a red notification appears on my screen.
Photos. Three of them.
I open the first one and the room tilts.
Bianca on the hospital bed, two men flanking her, one gripping her wrist too hard, her eyes glassy and unfocused for reasons that have nothing to do with the drugs anymore. I can't look at the second one long enough to understand what it's showing me. The third, I don't look at, at all.
The caption sits under all three like it belongs there.
The boys had a great time with her this morning.
I'm shaking. I don't notice until I go to set the phone down and it clatters against the counter twice before I get a grip on it.
I call him back. He answers on the first ring, like he was waiting.
"You sick piece of shit."
"Now, now."
"I will kill you myself."
"There's my girl." He says it fondly, like I've done something to make him proud. "Next time there'll be video. Something to really keep you company on the lonely nights."
"If you touch her again..."
"If I touch her again, what? You gonna call your boyfriend? Sic the mob on me?" He laughs, low. "Here's the thing about threatening a dead man, sweetheart. It doesn't work."
"What are you talking about."
"Your Nico's already made it plain I'm walking around on borrowed time. I'm not stupid. I know how this ends." Something shifts in his voice, gone flat and almost bored. "So what exactly do I have left to lose here? You want to threatenme with something, it better be better than dead, because I'm already there."
My throat closes.
