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My insides twisted with nerves. “Your father?”
Carlos rolled his head dramatically. “Don’t give me that face, muchacha. Don’t pretend you didn’t know my old man.”
“I didn’t,” I said despite the tremble in my heart. “But even if I did, I can’t guarantee anything would’ve been different.”
He pulled off his cowboy hat. “That hurts my feelings, amiga.”
And then I remembered Andrei. “Where is he?”
Carlos put on his hat. “The Russian?” He shook his head. “I cannot tell you unless you answer my questions truthfully.”
“Fuck you and fuck your questions,” I yelled. My breath hitched as panic climbed up my spine. “I’ll kill you if you touch even a strand of hair on his head. The Russian is mine.”
“You don’t understand this sweetie, do you?” His wicked laughter resounded in whatever the fuck we were in. It looked like a warehouse of some sort, but I wasn’t sure.
He grabbed my chin painfully and revealed a small dagger. “Let’s try again, muchacha, shall we?”
The feel of his rough hand disgusted me, and I wanted to spit on his face. But I needed to be logical and play along while I thought of an escape. I nodded. “Go ahead, ask your questions.”
“Good girl.” He patted my cheek and took his disgusting hand away from my face. “Now, where is my father?”
My shoulders throbbed with pain. Fuck. I wanted to get the hell out of here. And with Andrei. “I don’t know which of them was your father, a description would help.”
“Short, round, and probably wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off you.” He stared at my thighs. I was still in Andrei’s shirt and goosebumps erupted on my skin from his stare. I would’ve thrown up if his gaze lingered on me for a moment longer. “My father has a habit of calling women whores.”
“Oh.” The one who Andrei wanted to shoot off his tongue. Now that I knew he was this animal’s father, I wished I could go back in time and cut off his tongue for good. I wondered if he was dead now. “Your father is still alive, but I can only tell you what I know after I see Andrei.”
“You’re not in the position to negotiate.”
“I think I am. You love your father and I want the Russian.”
“Fine.” Carlos stood from his chair. “I’ll send you something to make you talk, maybe his finger.”
“You’ll never find your father if even a hair on his head goes missing.”
“Is that a threat, muchacha?”
I forced a smile onto my face. “No. It’s only a warning.”
“The only reason I’m letting you off is because I do not want problems with the Italians.” He walked to me and pulled my hair. “Don’t push me.”
Shit, my head hurts. I endured the pain, not letting him see how much he was hurting me. “I wouldn’t dare.”
He sighed frustratedly, obviously annoyed by me but not having any reason to hurt me. Or maybe he wanted to hurt me but didn’t want to incur my papa’s wrath. If so, he shouldn’t have tried to cross to Andrei—he wouldn’t live till dawn if he did.
The poor idiot probably didn’t know how scary the Russians were. Even my papa, as horrible as he was, knew better than to make a move against them unless it was necessary. I guess trying to find his father was, but I didn’t think it was worth it considering his papa was an asshole.
“Keep an eye on her,” Carlos said and walked out, leaving me with three of his men.
I peered around. My eyes had adjusted in the darkness so I could see better. There wasn’t a glass or a bottle or anything useful that I could use around me. I needed to leave here, and I needed to find Andrei before Carlos did something to him.
Seeing where I ended up, I suspected we’d been in an accident and I could only imagine how Andrei looked if I was this messed up myself. I needed to pull a stunt to get myself out of here and there was only one I could think of. I’d used it once, but not in a situation like this.
I’d used it to distract guards at a party organized by one of the cartels in New York. “I need to use the bathroom,” I yelled out to the room at large.
The guys ignored me, holding their guns steadily. Fuckers.
“Can you hear me?” I screamed. “I need to pee, losers.”
