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“And I paid more than enough for it, Derick, so screw you.”
“Yeah, I remember how good we were together, you always kept coming back. I’m counting on it this time.”
“Hell no, not anymore,” I spit out, anger taking over. “You’re holding the passports over my head?” I ask, grabbing the file.
“You have no idea what I had to do to keep you, and your boy, safe,” he says, adjusting his tiny dick. “I got transferred to the city, and I like the thought of you filling my bed again.”
“I’m not your whore, and he has a name, Derick. I would give my life for him.”
“I know, I’m counting on it,” he says, his gaze focused on my cleavage. “But you play the part so well, being easy, I mean,” he taunts.
My hand is itching to sucker punch him. “Padre is the most lethal killer out there, so what the hell do you want from me?” I know because his name has been tied to every crime syndicate killing in the country, not to mention the numerous assassins around the world. The public doesn’t know anything about this man but when you walk on both sides of the law you hear a lot of shit.
“Kill him. You can handle it. So do we have a deal?” he asks. “You know I’m right. And Ignatius doesn’t know about his father, does he?”
“What do you mean?” I gasp, clutching the file.
“That he raped you, and got you pregnant in the process?”
“That’s a lie and you know it,” I spit out, my heart slamming in my chest. What he’s saying, didn’t happen. Jonathan didn’t rape me but to the outside world it looks like he did.
“That info would destroy your precious boy, wouldn’t it,” he says with a smile. The motherfucker. “It would be a shame for Iggy to find out, don’t you think? I also know about the fight he got in. I could pay those boy’s parents a little visit and convince them to press charges. And with a mom who goes out partying almost every Friday night, and being the son of a rapist, maybe the court would get involved and decide you’re an unfit mother.”
I take out my gun and aim it at his head. “You wouldn’t,” I bite out, my voice trembling, I can’t lose Iggy, I can’t.
“A week,” he repeats, pushing the gun out of his face with a smug smile. The bastard knows he’s got me.
“Now, our deal?” he repeats, holding out his hand for me to shake.
“You have your damn deal. I’ll kill him,” I say, throwing the file, which is the size of a thick book on Mom’s desk, ignoring the fucker’s outstretched hand.
“I need confirmation by the end of the week,” he answers, heading to the door.
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, following him outside. Mom and Dot pretend to be busy talking but watch us like a hawk.
“I can’t track and kill a man in a week, are you crazy? You don’t even know if the guy is still in Alaska,” I say low under my breath as the morning sun hits my eyes when we get to his car.
“That’s your problem. You call me and no one else, you hear?” he tells me, getting behind the wheel of his car. “Oh, and Pax, whatever you do, kill him on sight and bring me proof. You owe me,” he warns.
I cringe because I know he’s right, no matter how much I hate him. “I promise, Derick. I’ll call you when I get something,” I say, knowing I just sold my soul.
