Liv paces the Vegas chic red and black swirly carpet as I punch in the code to the safe, so ready for this shit to be over.
When the door swings open, though, nothing is inside. “What the fuck?” Not a bag or a single dollar bill. My stomach drops to the floor like a sack of cinder blocks. “Did you move it?”
“Move what?” Liv comes to stand beside me.
“The money. It’s fucking gone.”
“What?” She shoves me aside so she can peek into the safe to see for herself. When she looks back at me, her hazel eyes are wide and alarmed. “Where’d the fuck it go?”
“If I fucking knew that, I wouldn’t be having a nervous breakdown right now.”
“The only other person who knew it was in there was . . .” We both look at the adjoining door at the same time.“Fuck.”
Liv rushes to the door and swings it open. “He’s gone. Everything in the room has been cleared out,” she delivers the damning news.
Fuck!.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Liv thinks quickly on her feet. “We need to go, now. We need to run until we can figure all this shit out.” She grabs the FBI agent’s card and shoves it in the back pocket of her ripped skinny jeans.
I can hear her talking. I can feel her pushing me, but I feel like I’m suspended. Like I can’t move fast enough or think clearly enough. My world is crumbling right at my feet. All I can see is Liv and the future we were supposed to have slipping through my fingers like sand. It’s a glorious group of images — our wedding, our house, our children — all going up in flames.
“Damon.” She shakes me violently. A needle scratches on vinyl, and I snap out of whatever trance I was in as the world returns to its normal speed. “We need to go, now. Please.” She’s frantic.
Getting my shit together, I grab her hand and make for the door. But it’s too late. As soon as I open it, the two Grim Reapers are standing there. Lev and Dima. Liv has told me their names, along with a few bone-chilling stories.
Without knowing what else to do, I try to break through them, to give us an opportunity to run. It’s our only chance, but they’re too goddamn solid. They throw me back like a sacked quarterback.
“I take it that warm welcome means you don’t have the money.” Lev almost sounds smug.
“We did have it. All of it. But it was stolen,” Liv talks fast. “I know the guy. I know where you can find him. I will even help you track him down.” She shields me as Lev stalks through the room, trying her best to remedy the really fucking bad situation.
He pauses. “No. That was not the deal.” He shoves her out of the way. “The deal was” — he reaches down, grabs a fistful of my shirt, and pulls me to my feet — “money, today. Or you die. No negotiations.”
Fuck, there is cold malice in his dark, dead eyes. He wants to hurt me. Hewantsto kill me. “Not such a chirpy grasshopper today,da?”
“I have a few more hops left.” I go straight for the low blow and kick Lev right in the balls. It buys me a few seconds and one more opportunity. “Liv, run!” I shove Lev and try to make for the door. But I underestimate Gaba the Mute. Dima is definitely smarter than his dumb, bald head lets on. He goes straight for Liv, grabbing her and tossing her on the bed. Snatching a pillow, he suffocates her, pulling a gun out from his waistband.
He points it right at Liv’s head as she squirms.
“No!” I scream so loud my vocal cords tear. “I’ll go . . . I’ll go with you. Just leave her out of this.”
“I figured you’d see it our way.” Dima is in no rush to let Liv up. The seconds tick by like months until he removes the pillow and allows her to breathe.
“Asshole.” She kicks him in the knee, causing it to buckle.
“‘Suka!” He pistol whips her, and she flies back onto the bed holding her cheek.
I snarl like a bull seeing red. “I am going to cut your motherfucking balls off.” I charge at Dima, but Lev clotheslines me, sending my ass back to the floor. Wrapping his meaty arm around my neck, he locks me in a chokehold.
“Tie her up,” Lev orders as I flail under his asphyxiating hold.
Dima gets right to work, ripping the phone cord out of the wall, using it to subdue Liv.
I watch helplessly, fury flooding my veins, as he bounds her wrists behind her back. He’s like a fucking Russian Boy Scout reject.
“If you don’t do exactly as we say, we will come back for her. And I promise, her death will be more violent than yours.” The sick, disgusting insinuation in his tone turns my stomach. Liv doesn’t deserve a horrific death. She doesn't deserve any of this. I curse my father, Pony, and Knuckles. Because of them we are victims of circumstance, forced to pay the ultimate price.
Me, with my life. Liv, with heartbreak.
