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“Luis,” said Covey, “will you SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!”

Jun’s ears rang from his splitting scream.

When the echo died, Covey grinned down at him again. “I want to hear from our lovely guest.”

Jun’s tongue found the split in the corner, and he winced as fresh pain shot through his jaw. “No cop,” he croaked. “She had an emergency.”

Covey clicked his tongue. “Yeah, yeah. I heard that from my producers. But I want to hear it from you.” He pressed closer. His voice dropped to something between a whisper and a growl. “Where. Were. You. Taking. Her?”

Covey’s face was so close Jun could see the pores in his skin. Could count his teeth.

A dark, reckless impulse surged through the pain. He could bite. Sink his teeth into that smirk and tear it off. Before the thought finished forming, a weight crushed down on his shoulder—the same bruised spot—and the fight drained out of him in a gasp.

“I don’t know!” Jun gasped out.

“How could you not know?” Covey crooned. His knee drove deeper. Bone ground against bone, the joint straining like it might pop from the socket. “There’s no way she would have left in such a hurry with you.”

Jun turned his face away, pressing his slapped cheek to the cool floor. The chill stung the swelling. Covey’s fingers caught his chin and wrenched him back. He studied Jun’s face with the detached curiosity of someone appraising livestock. “Though… I kind of get it. You’re gorgeous. Maybe you just happen to be her type?”

Something cracked across Jun’s jaw—knuckles, not a slap. Blood filled his mouth where his cheek split against his teeth. The room tilted. His eyes blurred with tears.

Covey shifted. His other knee pressed down on Jun’s chest.

The air slammed out of Jun’s lungs. He tried to inhale—couldn’t. His mouth gaped open, jaw straining, but nothing came in. His lungs burned. His pulse hammered in his ears, deafening. He kicked his legs against the concrete, bound ankles thrashing, trying to buck the weight off.

Covey didn’t move. Jun’s vision started to shrink—the edges going dark, Covey’s face floating above him like something from a nightmare.

His bound hands were crushed beneath him. Something in his wrist shifted wrong. White pain.

“You took her away,” Covey hissed against his ear. “From me. After everything I’ve done for you.”

A strangled sound tore out of Jun as Covey pressed him harder into the ground. He was going to die here. Maybe that was fine. Maybe Ruki was waiting.

Covey’s hand found Jun’s throat. Squeezed. The last thread of air vanished.

“Hey, boss…” Luis’s voice sounded far away, underwater. “Boss, you’re gonna kill him—”

Music. Tinny. Far away. A piano. Mozart, maybe. The pressure lifted. Air crashed back into Jun’s lungs like breaking through water. He choked. Coughed again and again.

Every breath was a knife. His ribs expanded, and the pain was almost worse than the suffocation. He heaved, vision swimming, head so light it might float off his body.

Covey’s voice changed. “…an opportunity to make a profit tonight…”

Jun’s ears rang. He focused on breathing. In. Out. In.

“Snowy’s going to be here along with the other Sugars girl—”

A buzzing response from the phone. Covey’s tone shifted—deferential, almost nervous.

“I understand, sir. You’ll get your shares by tomorrow. I can guarantee that.”

A pause. “Seventy-thirty? Okay.”

Jun tried to process every word, but his body screamed for him to stop thinking and just survive.

“Yes, sir.” Covey sighed as he put the phone down and stared at his screen. He fiddled around with it for a few seconds before turning back towards them. “Luis.”

“Yeah, boss?” said Luis, stepping over Jun. At this point, he didn’t care if Luis stepped on him.