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7 Minutes in Sea Haven

Page 337

by A. Marie

She nods.

“Good girl.” I kiss her clammy forehead before swallowing down the discomfort of this next question. “What all did he do to you?”

“Not…” She shakes her head. “Not that. He just dragged me out of my bed and brought me down here. The others tied me up and made me call you.”

As glad as I am no one took any liberties with Kota, they still put their hands on her. All three of ’em. That must’ve been scary as fuck for her. She’ll be traumatized for years, if not forever.

All because of…me? They used her to get me over here…for what? Did Guy hire them? Did I beat one of their fighters and now they’re looking for revenge? It’s crazy but it’s not unheard of. Shit gets weird in the world of underground fighting.

“You’re all gonna regret that,” I tell them, earning three snickers this time. They can pretend to underestimate me all they want. I know the truth. They wouldn’t have a gun trained on my every move if they didn’t think I was a threat.

As Kota’s eyes oscillate between her attackers and me, her posture shrinks.

“Hey, hey. Don’t look at them. Don’t look at any of them. Okay? Just look at me. They’re not gonna do anything to you. They’re not here for you.”

Small as a mouse, she says, “I know.”

“Son?”

The fuck?

Slowly, I look over my shoulder.

My dad’s here. Oh, and Sera. Their wrists are also bound, but they seem to be content in their inferior positions. While my dad is comfortably sitting on his ass, Sera’s lying on her side, looking more like jelly than human. Silently weeping, she’s nothing but a leaking blob.

Where’s all that hardball talk now?

Fuck-ass sake.

“What’s going on?”

“These men would like their money,” my dad says with a nod toward our captors.

I study each of the three men. Ratty sneaks, ill-fitted clothes, one chain with a green tint to it. It’s not their money they’re here to collect, it’s their boss’s.

“What money?” I grit.

“The seven hundred thousand.”

Swinging my focus back to my dad, I repeat, “Seven hundred?”

“Thousand,” Enzo adds.

“Seven hundred fifty-nine thousand to be exact,” one of the other men says.

Neither my dad nor I blink as we stare the other down.

Over seven hundred thousand dollars. It was nowhere near that amount to begin with. To my knowledge, it was going down. How the fuck did it go up, especially so high?

My hands tighten into a single fist.

“Dad—”

“Khaos, son, please.”

I scowl.

“Just…tell them you’ll get the money.”