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“Now, now, Miss Finch, no need to get upset.” My eyes shoot to Vincent sitting leisurely in his chair. “You had to have known this was your fate, thinking you would come into my world and attempt to disrupt my empire.”
“No! He’s—” Vincent nods, and I howl in pain as the sharpness of the knife digs into my skin. His heavy gaze suddenly becomes colder and void of any emotion. My lips tremble, but I fight down my panic and take an unsteady breath. “Please, just listen to me—”
“Enough!” He slams his fist against the table again, and I swear I pee my pants a little. My heart rate spikes to an unhealthy rate. I worry I’m going to pass out. He taps his fingertips against the table, and with each thump, it snubs more oxygen from my lungs.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
“What do you want from me?”
He tosses the papers at me, and they scatter across the table, falling into my lap.
Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit…
Shots of me walking into Celebrity Dirt. My apartment. Me running into the police station.
He leans back in his chair, reaching for a shot of me running into the police station. My eyes search the room, praying an escape exit magically appears. Who the heck knows how far I’ll get, but I can’t just sit here, waiting for my execution. “You see, Miss Finch, the first thing I noticed about you is your intelligence. You have a way of reading people, just like I do—which means you already know what’s going to happen.”
I fight the sudden dizziness and urge to vomit. “I’m not really sure I know what that is…” Death, execution, fish food. Oh god, I’m going to die. “Vincent, listen, this is a simple mistake. You don’t need to do this,” I plead, finally exposing my cards.
“Oh, how I do love listening to you beg. It’s quite thrilling. I imagine you would be perfect tied up and under me, the sound of your cries like music to my ears as I devour every single inch of you.” I gag, fighting not to be sick. “Don’t fret. We’re past that.” He waves his fingers to another silhouette standing in the entryway, and the seconds weigh on me like an eternity until I hear the clicking of shoes entering the room. “I am curious how you tricked Justice, though. For someone so sharp, he never suspected you to be a conniving little bitch.”
What? “I’m not—” Fingers grip into my hair and yank my head back. A dreadful gasp leaves my lips as the goon extends my neck and places the knife across my throat.
“If there is one thing I hate more than liars, it’s fucking scheming weasels. I should cut your throat right now. Such a thrill it would be watching you bleed out, struggling to take your last scheming breath.” Tears shed in panicked waves down my face. “Maybe I should bring your boyfriend back so he can hear what you’ve been up to. Think he would save you? Slice your throat himself?”
There’s no more hiding my distress as the walls around me cave in. I can’t breathe. “Vincent, please—”
“Hello, Miss Finch. A pleasure to see you again.” My head turns to the man walking across the bridge. Renaldo Valdez. “Don’t be scared. You and I are about to become very well-acquainted.”
“I may not care for liars, but Renaldo can’t get enough of them. Says they are the best to train. The most fun to break.” I shoot up my chair, only to get tossed back down once more.
“Vincent, please don’t,” I beg.
“No tears, my dear. The deal’s already done.” He turns his attention to Renaldo. “Where are we with the shipment?”
Renaldo adjusts his pristine tie. “Four containers have been delivered to Iroquois Landing. Unfortunately, three containers are unaccounted for.”
I peer over at Vincent, who appears displeased by this news—news he already knows since he’s the one who intercepted Renaldo’s shipment. “Our deal was seven containers, not four. I have clients waiting for their merchandise. Merchandise I was guaranteed.”
“Yes, and you will get it. My men are working on it. I hope this doesn’t affect our arrangement?” he asks, his beady eyes falling on me.
My head whips to Vincent. “What does he mean?” His sick smile gives me the only answer I need. He just sold me to the highest bidder. “No!” I fight my captive’s hold. “Vincent, no!” My chest constricts, and panic explodes throughout my body.
Ignoring my pleas, Vincent stands and adjusts his suitcoat. “Get her out of my sight.” He turns to Chino. “Confirm the landing is secured. Once the girls have been dispersed, make sure those containers leave no trace. Any hiccups, and it’s your life.” Then he directs his attention to me. “Good day, Miss Finch.”
Adrenaline blasts through me like a rocket. I throw myself from my chair and dig my heel into the ground to free myself when my legs are swooped from under me. I free-fall, landing in the pond. A large hand shoves against my head, pushing me under. The second my face is submerged under water, I slip back into the traumatic childhood memory. The rocking of the small boat. Falling overboard. My lungs flooding with frigid water as I sunk deeper and deeper.
