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“Where’s my son?” I ask, stepping to the side, half concealing Pearl from King.
“Bring him out,” King yells, and one of Luis’s men appears from behind a container. My heart drops when I see the state of Nolan. But he’s here.
“Fucking hell,” James says quietly, Danny parroting him, all of us watching as Nolan limps along, being guided roughly. His face is so swollen, his eyes black. Definitely more damage than the footage. They’ve disfigured my boy. “You fuckers,” I hiss under my breath as Nolan’s half-closed eyes find me. I feel my nostrils flare. I can’t look at him. It’ll tip me. “Where’s the necklace?” I turn to King, and he pulls an envelope from his back pocket.
“Here.” He tosses it down on the dirt, and I see Pearl peek up. Breathe in.
I step forward and scoop up the envelope, looking inside. I don’t find a necklace. Instead I find a photograph. I close my eyes and turn my face away from the image of Pearl curled up on a bed as King barks his laughter. Naked. She’s a vessel. A shell. No emotion on her face. Nothing.
God help me.
One of King’s men moves in on Pearl, and I step in front of her, blocking his way. Pretty fucking useless unarmed, but still. “I don’t think so.”
King laughs more, amused. “Okay, okay.” He checks the boat. It’s full of cash. “Let’s move this along.”
Yes, let’s.
Nolan gets shoved forward, and he falls to his knees. “Choose,” King grunts, waving his machine gun between Pearl and Nolan.
My throat tightens. “What?”
“I said”—his lips stretch—“choose.”
Is he telling me to do what I think he’s telling me to do? “Choose between”—don’t call her by her name—“. . . her and my son?”
“Yes.”
“Choose her,” Nolan murmurs.
“What?” I blurt, outraged, spinning to face him. “Shut your fucking mouth.”
“Choose her,” he repeats, robotic, all life kicked and punched out of him. Pearl’s head is still low.
“Come on, Mr. America,” King sings. “Choose.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss, my heart hammering.
James’s hands start discreetly pressing against thin air. Calm down. But then Pearl appears in front of me. Walking to King? The fuck? “Pearl,” I yell, reaching for her. And get countless guns thrust in my face, forcing me back. “Pearl, what the fuck are you doing?”
King smirks. “Oh, how the moral compass is tested. Your long-lost son or a helpless little virgin?”
Virgin.
I throw a look Sandy’s way. Observing. Still keeping his filthy mouth shut. He fucking knows. But King doesn’t. “A few facts for you,” I say, facing King. He can’t hide the falter of his sneering smile. “Your Russian friend here tried to have your precious virgin abducted.”
“You speak lies,” Sandy hisses. “Why would I do that?”
“To use her as a pawn against King.” I smile. It’s a fucking effort. “Why? Because you don’t trust him? You shouldn’t. He’s a fucking lying, immoral cunt.”
“Fuck you,” King bellows at me before swinging outraged eyes to Sandy. “You tried to abduct her? Use her?”
“And his pretty mole also tried to kill her,” I add. “That’s why her arm’s broken and she’s covered in cuts.”
“What?” King barks.
Here we go. Uncontrollable rage.
“And King murdered your men.” I go on, relishing Sandy’s frown. “Because he needed help getting his precious niece back from us. Needed you to have a reason to want to back him.” I raise my brows. “So he offered you the guns.”
