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“What the fuck is this?” I growled. “When did you hear me mention restraints and gags?”
“She’s a wild one. She would’ve booked otherwise.” He rolled the chair around to face me.
Even before the girl lifted her head and glared at me out of mutinous green eyes, I knew he’d grabbed the wrong woman.
“You damn idiot, that’s Jenna Walsh, not Carly.”
Twenty-Five
“No kidding.” Dante waved a thin piece of plastic over her head. “Found this I.D. tucked in a secret chamber of her purse, rather than in her wallet. Because, you know, I.D. should be hidden six layers deep. Not to mention, she answered to Carlotta, not her own name.”
“I was supposed to be Carly!” Jenna protested.
“Your loss.” Dante returned his attention to her I.D.
No wonder he’d thought he had the right woman. Jenna didn’t have her usual long blond hair. Instead, she wore a long dark wig with knee-high white boots and a leather outfit that showed way more cleavage than I was used to seeing from the girl. Not that I’d spent much time with her, but still.
“I let her text home, because you know, nice dude. And her phone’s been blowing up all day. Some guy named Slater is threatening murder and dismemberment, because apparently, our Girl Friday here tipped him off in some secret code that big bad Giovanni had her.” He bent down and peered into her face and she glared at him. If she was afraid, she sure didn’t show it. “Little girl, do I look like my brother to you?”
I reached forward and pulled off her gag. She immediately started shrieking until Dante clamped a big hand over her mouth. “What’d I tell you about that? Squeals like a damn piggy,” he muttered, tipping back her head to look into her eyes. “You keep screaming, the gag stays on. We might even get a blindfold for you too.” He looked at me. “So what do we do with her?”
From behind his hand, the high-pitched squeals started again.
“Shh, shh.” I shot Dante a dark look as I knelt before Jenna and gripped her knees. Panic raced through her expression, and I realized that wasn’t the best move. I lifted my hands, palms up. “You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you, I swear.”
Dante lifted his eyebrows at her. “Can I move my hand now, or are we going to keep re-enacting Charlotte’s Web all day?”
She nodded and he dropped his hand. “Untie me, please,” she said in a sweet, demure voice that didn’t match the flare in her eyes. “I won’t try to escape.”
“Yes, untie her,” I told Dante. “She’s not a damn prisoner. Her wrists probably hurt.”
“They do.” She nodded hurriedly. “Hours of sitting in this chair and I’m sore as hell.”
“Almost as sore as my ears from listening to your babble.” Dante undid the ropes. He moved his mouth close to her ear. “Run, and I’ll enjoy catching you.”
She pursed her mouth and said nothing.
The instant he’d freed her, she rubbed the circulation back into her wrists. “Thank you.”
Dante seemed surprised by her gratitude. “That’s better than—”
She stood up and slapped him right across the face. Since he’d still been bent over undoing the rope from the chair, he’d been at her perfect height to strike. “That’s for calling me a pig.” She slapped him again on the opposite cheek, leaving two bright handprints in her wake. “And that’s for kidnapping me, you brute.”
“Sit your ass in that chair, puttana,” Dante demanded.
“Why don’t you make me?”
“Oh, gladly.” He started to reach for her ass and she squealed and scooted behind me.
I’d had just about enough of this. I grabbed hold of her arm and brought her around to face me. “Where’s Carly?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s important you tell me. He took you because he thought you were her. Why would he think that?”
“Why would he want to take Carly?” She shot a malevolent look at Dante. “Brutish jerk.”
“I asked him to.”
