Page 74 of Venomous Games

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Boston says, and I hear him grunt, which probably means he’s moving.

I wait for Rolland to tell me what to do, but he just mouths for me to ask again.

“Surely you know, Boston. When is it?” I press.

My name is called, letting me know the script is ready, and I take my eyes off of Rolland for just a few seconds. During that time, I feel him move. And when I look back at him, he’s walking away.

Taking the phone off the speaker, I put it to my ear.

“Maven.” Boston’s voice is laced with concern.

“Rolland was here,” I tell him. “He just left. He wanted to find out when the next hunt is. Why does he care?”

“Stay there. I’m coming.”

“No, you fucking aren’t. You stay in bed, mister. I can handle myself. I just wasn’t paying attention.” I pay for the painkillers and then head out the door. “I’ll be home soon.” I scan the street before my gaze lands on my bike.

I must make some sort of sound, because Boston asks, “What? What is it?”

“Motherfucker.” I stomp my foot.

“Maven,” he growls.

“He gave me a flat tire.”

“You really need to start taking one of the cars.”

“One of the cars? What do you mean? You only have one,” I say, grumbling under my breath and wanting to kick my bike. Glancing around again, I make sure he isn’t still out here. Asshole. I should gut him for that.

“I have several. Tell me what car you want, and it’s yours.”

I stand in the street, baffled. “What do you mean you have several?” I pause. “Being a detective does not pay that well.”

“No, but when my parents died, they left me with a lot of money,” he answers.

“Oh, I married rich, and we don’t have a prenup. I’m filing for a divorce after I drop your meds off. I’m taking everything you own.”

“Well, at least you were kind enough to drop my meds off first. Do you think I can get a kiss before you leave me?”

“It will cost you,” I say as I stand next to my bike.

“Victor is almost there,” he says. “Cost me what? I’m willing to pay any price.”

I’m laughing when a familiar sedan pulls up.

“Where do you keep all these lavish things?” I question.

“I like to collect cars. Older cars. I have a warehouse full of them. Some property too. I have houses in Croatia, Mexico⁠—”

“Oh my God. You’re taking me to Croatia,” I squeal as I get in the car. “Hey, Victor, thanks for the lift. Even though I know it pains your existence to be here.”

“You understand me,” Victor murmurs as he pulls back onto the road.

“He likes you, and that’s saying a lot considering that man hates everyone,” Boston says.

“Even you?” I ask.

“He tolerates me because I’ve helped him out in the past,” he answers.