Chapter 25 Jamie #2
I open my eyes, gasping for breath, positive it’s broken.
The face that greets me scares me as much as his voice did.
A face I haven’t seen until now. Dirty hair, teeth that scream of heavy drug use, and eyes that look dead inside.
Like this is all just part of the day for him.
I’m just a chore to him, but he’s my walking nightmare.
“She can’t get up, you idiot. You just broke her leg,” the other, the one I’m now seeing, yells.
The second one is definitely the massive man who grabbed Jonah.
He’s huge, nearly as big as Jamie, but where Jamie is all muscle, this guy isn’t.
He’s as round as he is tall. He roughly jerks me to my feet, and adrenaline wars with agony.
Agony wins, and I scream as the pain of straightening my leg explodes.
“What did I fucking tell you?” The boss’s voice sounds bored, like he’s lecturing a room full of children.
The massive man behind me groans and grabs my arm, jostling me. Forcing me to shift my weight, and the pain is too much. “Don’t damage the goods.”
“Don’t damage the goods.” The boss turns to the other man. “And what did you do?”
“Sorry, boss. But she—”
The boss aims a gun with a long silver silencer attached and, before I can suck in a breath, fires, hitting the guy who just kicked me right between the eyes. Blood splatters my face, and the man drops to the concrete under our feet.
I scream and stop breathing.
Oh my God.
“Shut her up, Caz.”
Oh shit. Caz, the big guy, the not dead guy, turns me to him, wild eyes demanding obedience. I stop screaming and start sobbing. “You seen what just happened, right, girly?”
My chest shakes as I try to pull my shit together, but he just shot him.
I’m wearing his blood.
I can’t do this.
I can’t be here.
“Don’t piss him off, girly. We only need you to get the money. Alive is better than dead. But we can make it work either way.”
Oh God. Oh God.
Pull it together . . . I’ve got to pull it together.
Somehow, with a strength I only manage to muster because if I die, so does my son, I lock it down and clamp my lips closed, balancing as much on my good leg as I can. But I can’t stop the tears that are pouring down my face.
“That’s it. Looks like we got one with a brain, boss,” Caz announces, and I suck in a deep breath through my nose, trying to breathe through the pain and the fear. “Awful pretty when you cry,” he whispers. “Bet you’d be awful pretty crying with my cock shoved all the way down that throat too.”
No . . . This isn’t happening.
“Of course she’s got a brain. She’s my kid.” The boss answers, and bile creeps up my throat.
“What?” I gasp before I can think clearly, forcing the vomit back down.
I didn’t hear him right.
I couldn’t have.
“Didn’t hear me, Ash-ton?” He says my name like it’s a curse to be hissed. “Bring her a chair before she falls the fuck over. I need her standing on her own if I’m going to get Murphy to pay.”
Caz slides a metal chair behind me and shoves me into it, unimaginable pain radiating down from my knee. “Leave us,” the boss tells his minion, and my head swims as Caz obeys, leaving me alone with the killer wielding a gun. With my father?
The boss brings his yellow eyes back to mine. “You’re prettier than your momma.”
I stare in shock and horror, the pain growing with every second, and try to cling to the idea that this man is lying.
But under the scars and hollowed cheeks, under the strung-out eyes and greasy hair, I see it.
I see Evan in his features. And I don’t want to, but I see me too, and another tear falls.
“She wasn’t lying,” I whisper, horrified.
“Oh, your momma. She lied her fine ass off when you went to see her, but not about everything. She wasn’t lying about that plea deal. She signed that shit, but we had a plan, and the kingpin she’s giving up ain’t me. Your momma is making herself useful and taking out our competition.”
I stare at him, trying to force my brain to ignore the pain and process his words . . . but I’m not sure I can.
“She wasn’t lying about me though. We met when she moved to Maryland and was looking for a way to . . . take the edge off. Your daddy just didn’t know how to give Suzanna what she liked.”
He thrusts his hips, and I think I’m going to be sick.
I breathe through it.
Scared to give this man any reason to shoot me as he spins his gun.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Think, Ashton, think.
Okay, keep him talking. If he’s talking, he won’t kill me . . . will he?
Wait. No. Don’t think like that.
What do they do on the TV shows I’ve watched?
They keep them talking.
They humanize themselves.
They get the bad guy to divulge their evil plans, then they save themselves instead of waiting for a man to come and save the day. Not sure I’m in any shape to save myself, but I’m sure as hell not going to give up and make killing me easy.
“What did she lie about?” I try, and this man I will never think of as anything other than the boss smiles.
“Oh, your momma is a good liar, Ash-ton. She got you there, didn’t she?
She knew she was taking that plea deal. Knew she was gonna be stuck in there, but she wanted to get out as soon as possible.
And if she was gonna do the time, she wanted to come out sitting on a fat pile of cash.
You ever fucked on a million bucks, Ash-ton?
Cause that’s what I’m gonna do as soon as that big, dumb fuck of yours brings me my money. ”
A million dollars?
“Jamie doesn’t just have a million dollars lying around,” I gasp. Jamie’s got money, but not that much.
“Oh, he’s not gonna give me one million, girly.
He’s gonna give me three. You see, your momma knew once she got you talking, you’d be dumb enough to tell her everything you needed to.
We’ve been trying to dig up information on you for a long time.
She knew that fucking brat baby was the key to getting you to give up what we needed.
” His head tilts until his ear is nearly touching his shoulder, and he lifts his finger and points it at me.
“Wait . . . you believed she was really giving you the brat because what—you’d be a better momma?
” He laughs, and my stomach sours more. “She don’t give a shit about that kid.
She don’t give a shit about anybody but herself and her next high.
She don’t care who takes the brat. She just needed to know whose buttons to push to get us our money.
She thought we could get a cool mill off that doctor friend of yours.
But then you went and showed up pregnant with the baller’s baby .
. . and we knew we hit the fucking jackpot.
A friend might pay a million, but a baby daddy . . . he’s gonna pay more.”
He pulls his chair closer to me and grabs my face, holding me still so I can’t move as he drags the muzzle of the gun over my split cheek.
I press my lips closed, trying to hold back the whimpers bubbling in my throat.
I knew she was a mess.
I knew Evan’s death broke her.
But I didn’t know anything.
If this man is our father, she’s been broken for so much longer than we ever knew.
She lured me there. She—oh God—she set me up.
Set this up.
It was her plan, and I was the bait. She doesn’t care if I live or die.
“It’s all clickin’ now, ain’t it, Ash-ton? Your momma was the spider, and you walked right into her web.” He looks down at his watch, and his disgusting smile morphs. “Showtime.”
“What are you going to do with me?” I whisper, terrified of his answer.
“What do you think I’m going to do? I’m ransoming you for three million dollars.
” My heart sinks. Money. It’s all for money.
But maybe . . . Maybe he’ll get his money, and he’ll let me go.
“And then I’m going to kill your pretty-boy boyfriend right in front of you, just for fun.
We can’t have him telling nobody about this, now can we?
” I scream, and he stands and wraps duct tape around my mouth and licks my fucking ear. “Right before I kill you.”