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“I don’t know,” Jillian said desperately. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks.”
“Wrong answer,” Sunday said, pressing his arm harder against her throat and grabbing one of her pinkies. “Now, try again, or I will snap this finger and then another before I crush your larynx. Do you understand, Jillian?”
She was weeping again, but she nodded.
Sunday released the pressure on her throat but held her pinkie firmly.
Jillian sobbed, “Don’t hurt her, please.”
“Hurt her?” he said, acting taken aback. “I’m not interested in hurting Acadia any more than I’m interested in hurting you, Jillian. I just want the money she stole from me yesterday. I want it back in my account, and then I’m moving on. No hard feelings. Truth is, she and I have been on the outs for a while now, and while I can take the abandonment, I cannot abide a thief.”
“You promise you won’t hurt her?”
“On my dear mama’s soul,” Sunday assured her.
Jillian swallowed, said, “Last I knew, around midnight, just as I was going on shift, she had car trouble and said she wouldn’t be coming here after all.”
“Okay,” he said reasonably. “Where did she say she was going?”
“Her apartment in New Orleans,” she said, a little too quickly.
Sunday could spot a liar a mile away, much less six inches. He smiled, said, “So she’s going to her mother’s.”
A wave of fear pulsed through Jillian’s face. “Marcus, no, she—”
He pressed against her throat again, said, “Shhh, now. No more of that. I’m going to need a place to sleep for a few hours. I can crash here, right?”
“That’s not a good—”
He increased the pressure on her throat again, and she gulped and nodded.
Sunday released her and let her lead the way. As they crossed through a small, tidy kitchen, he saw her hesitate as she passed a block of knives on the counter.
“Don’t even think about that, darlin’,” he said.
“What? I was wondering if you were hungry.”
He was, but that could wait. He said, “I just want to sleep for now. I’ll eat later, and then you’ll be rid of me.”
From the stiffness of her posture as they entered the hall, Sunday knew she was having a hard time believing him. But that was okay. He was having a hard time believing it himself.
Jillian stopped, gestured through an open door, said, “There’s an extra bed in there you can use.”
“No, no,” he said, pushing her forward. “I
was thinking we’d sleep together so I’d know if you got up or tried to make a phone call.”
“I wouldn’t,” she said, her voice cracking as she went through the door at the end of the hall.
“Just the same,” Sunday said, following her into the master bedroom, a tasteful and orderly space with a decidedly feminine touch.
“I need to take a shower,” she said.
“That’s a great idea,” he said. “But later, after.”
Jillian turned and, without meeting his eye, said, “After?”
“C’mon, now, darling, you take off those scrubs, show Marcus what he’s been missing, and he’ll show you what Acadia’s been getting,” he said.
