Page 12 of Heist in Paradise

“What kind?”

“Um, the ocean kind?”

His eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. It was obvious he had no patience for bullshit. That didn’t bode well for me.

His eyes snapped open. “Either you cooperate, or I’ll make you.”

The lie formed quickly in my head. It was the performance needed to sell it that worried me. “I’m supposed to be here,” I said, gagging a little on the chokehold. “I work for Mr. Salvadore. I’m h-his assistant.”

“Assisting in what?” There was a sarcastic lilt to his voice. His gaze dipped, leering at me in a way that made me flush hot all over.

“General duties,” I hissed out sharply. “It’s not like that. I’m just here to water his plants.”

There. That sounded convincing. Not that I’d noticed any house plants.

Blue eyes continued to stare me down, then he stepped around us and out of my immediate sight. I fidgeted, my skin prickling with awareness. The fingers spasmed on my throat in warning. The leader returned a moment later with my switchblade in his hand, and my heart sank.

“And what was this for? Hedge trimming?”

My chin lifted. “Maybe.”

“Bit young, aren’t you? For such a big responsibility.” Okay, he was definitely mocking me. I needed to up my game. Whip out the big guns.

Forcing myself to go slack, I let my head drop forward despondently. I didn’t like playing the victim, but I was desperate. Manipulative, Heath would’ve said. Fuck that guy. I pushed out a tiny sob, making myself look small and pathetic. The tears came easier than they usually did—blinding terror was excellent source material.

The pitiful performance had the desired effect. The hand on my throat loosened just slightly. Hot tears streaked silently down my face.

“Let her go.”

My first captor released me and stepped back. I swayed a bit at the unexpected freedom. Cool air brushed the sweat on the back of my neck and knees. I hugged myself, really amping it up.

Fingers locked suddenly on my chin, wrenching my face up. A gasp punched out of me. I blinked hard, trying to read his expression through my tears.

“Real convincing.” I sensed his smile behind his freaky skull bandana. It was not kind. “Too bad I don’t buy it for a second.”

“Please—”

“Don’t do that.” His own gloved fingers were bruising, tilting my face this way and that, searching for fissures in my façade. “I know a grifter when I see one.”

Grifter? How old was he? “I’m not,” I blubbered. “I swear on my life.”

“Doubling down.” He nodded like I’d only confirmed his theory. “Either you don’t hold much value in your life, or you’re just as morally crooked as the rest of us. Which is it?”

I swallowed, my tongue thick and my words starting to clog. “I choose C,” I choked out. “Please. People will notice if I go missing.”

My heart twinged in grief. It wasn’t a lie, necessarily, but I’d been deliberately vague on my whereabouts and when I’d return. The only person who knew what I was up to was Preacher, and I wasn’t sure I trusted him entirely. My parents weren’t bothered unless I didn’t show up for our weekly dinner—god forbid they missed a chance to unload their grocery list of grievances against me. But I wasn’t due for another two days. A lot could happen in that time.

With a small grunt, the leader released me and nodded to my shadow. Suddenly, hands were on me again, tearing at my clothes, ripping the backpack off my torso.

“No. Wait—stop!” I reached out but was smacked away. Hands stinging, I cupped them to my chest and watched in outrage. My backpack was tossed carelessly across the room to the leader, and then just as carelessly ripped open.

He removed my spare clothes first, tossing them onto the floor, lacy panties and all. Next, it was my assortment of snacks, mostly gas station loot like chocolate bars and pretzels. Then he froze, elbow-deep, and fresh apprehension needled at my soul. His eyes found mine, one brow arching knowingly. He extracted his arm and held out his prize—the stolen watch.

How’s that for karma? Molly sang smugly in my head.

“Stealing from your employer gets you a bad reference,” the blue-eyed cretin said, tossing the watch to the large redhead behind him. “How much?”

The redhead examined it with deft fingers. “About twenty grand,” he said, with a slight twang.