Page 26 of Queen of Ruin

“You’re telling me the carjacker killed someone? Holy shit…” I lean forward against the table. “That’s awful! Two dead bodies… that’s so fucking horrible.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Clark begins pacing once again. “Let me be clear, Mr. Pérez⁠—”

“Diego.”

Clark pauses briefly but continues. “Two people have been murdered, and I find it very strange that the owner of the car involved not only was incredibly hard to track down, but he’s now sitting here claiming that his car was stolen.”

“You can call my insurance if you don’t believe me,” I reply smoothly. “But wouldn’t you also just be able to look up the police report of the theft?”

“You never filed one,” Clark says immediately.

I don’t know how to play this.

Everything hints that Clark either isn’t who he says he is or he’s working for someone who doesn’t need him to be competent at his job. Unless it’s a trick and he really does know that no police report was filed.

I clutch at the only thing I have and lie through my teeth.

“Yes, I did, actually. If you were doing your job properly, you would know that. Just like you would have found me a lot faster if you'd just looked at that report. I’ve not been hiding, I’ve been living my life waiting for you guys to find my damn car. Which” —I throw my hands upward— “sounds like it’s now a crime scene.”

Clark’s eyes narrow immediately. “Let me make one thing clear, Mr. Pérez⁠—”

“Diego.” It’s like a reflex every single time, but if I can unsettle this guy, then maybe I have a chance to get out of here alive.

His mouth snaps closed for a moment and his eyes narrow further. “Claiming your car was stolen doesn’t make it true because we have you on CCTV driving your car the night the murders took place. Before you spin some bullshit lie about the carjackers stealing the car right out from underneath you, remember, you look completely fine.”

“Are cops even allowed to swear?” I ask innocently. “Seems unprofessional.” And I’m hardly fine. The seatbelt bruise from the crash remains the most painful bruise I’ve ever had to heal. “You have me on CCTV?”

“Yes, Mr. Pérez, we do. Tell me something.”

He walks around the table toward me and my heart pounds up into my chest.

“What?” I ask as he stops near me. This guy is taller than me and a little broader, but the way he draws himself up, it’s like he’s trying to intimidate me with just his height alone.

Slowly, Clark leans down and looks me in the eye. “Did you kill the woman too?”

My veins turn to ice and my breath catches in my throat. It takes every ounce of my strength and focus to keep my face as impassive as possible, but it’s a wonder he can’t hear how fiercely my heart is pounding against my ribs.

Is he who Amber was running from? Or does he just work for the asshole who tortured her?

“What woman?” I force out. “I don’t know anything about any woman. I’m actually single, so⁠—”

He grabs me by the collar of my shirt and wrenches me so fiercely out of my chair that it clatters loudly to the ground and skitters a few feet away while Clark slams me violently against the wall. Air explodes forth from my lungs at the impact, while small pins from the bulletin board he holds me against dig painfully into my back.

“What the hell?!” I cry out, grabbing his arms with both my hands, but before I can say anything else, he seals both meaty fists around my throat and squeezes.

“Enough games,” he hisses through clenched teeth, bringing his face so close that saliva sprays over my face. “I’m fucking tired of chasing threads through the city only to lead back to a fucking asshole like you. I know who you are, Diego,” he mocks with a growl. “Just like I know you murdered those two men, so I’m going to ask you again and this time, you’re going to be honest with me, understand?”

I can’t breathe.

Air trapped in my lungs swells with increasing pressure around my racing heart, but this bastard’s fists around my throat have sealed off all attempts to breathe. My eyes bulge, the taste of copper rushes over the back of my tongue, and the violent urge to cough rises but gets trapped beneath those fists. I kick out at him but meet nothing, then I throw a punch, but the sudden violent tightening of those hands around my throat throws off my aim and my knuckles glance off his jaw.

Clark hauls me from the wall, lifts me, and slams me right back into it. My head cracks back against the wall and pain blinds me for a few terrifying, long seconds.

“We know you have her. For whatever fucking reason, we know you’re hiding her, so you’re going to tell me where she is, understand? And then I’m going to make a call and if you’re telling the truth, I’ll kill you quickly, understand?”

I can barely hear him through the blood pounding in my ears. Clasping his wrists, I tear my nails into his skin, fighting to get free as darkness closes in around my vision.

“Tell me where she is!” he roars.