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He pats my back and squeezes my shoulder. “You got this, man. Just tell them what they wanna hear. How are you gonna get that kind of money?”
I shrug because I’ve been wondering the same damn thing. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
Tyler drives us to the hotel, and when we walk in, he stays behind in the lobby while I take the elevator to the top floor. After wishing me luck, he reminds me to text or call him for backup if I need him.
JJ’s family is loaded and missing a hundred grand won’t put a dent in their finances, but it’s obvious his family is all about power and control. I’m not sure what I’ll say or how I’m going to come up with the money, but Maddie’s in danger, so I have to do something. Being a coward and running away won’t solve this, so I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them away from her.
In JJ’s last text, he told me to meet him in room 1580 so we could talk privately. The elevator beeps with every passing floor, and each time, my heart beats a little faster. The adrenaline rush from catching a fugitive is nothing compared to the anxiety I have over this. I’m in control on the job and call the shots, but the tables have turned. The hunter is now the hunted, and I have no idea what to expect.
The doors slide open, and I walk toward the room. My phone chimes, and I quickly see it’s a text from Tyler.
Tyler: I just saw a bunch of big looking dudes in black suits with guns exit the stairwell. Are you sure you’re only meeting JJ up there?
Motherfucker.
Quickly, I spin around to get the fuck out of there and am on my ass before I can even comprehend what’s happened. My hands cover my nose that some dick just punched, and now it’s bleeding.
“What the hell?” I roll to my side, and before I can get on my feet, he kicks me in the ribs with steel toe boots. Wincing, I tuck my knees to my chest. I tilt up my head and narrow my eyes at the two guys standing over me. By no means am I on the small side, but these dudes make me look tiny.
“Time to go,” one of them says, his voice deep and void of emotion.
“Boss wants to meet you,” big guy number two declares with a snarl.
“Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The guy’s lips curl up, smirking as if I’d just signed my own death warrant.
Before I can reply, the other pulls me up by the back of my jacket and smashes my face into the wall. Then everything goes dark.
By the time I wake up, blinking away the fog and trying to grasp where I am, I realize my arms and ankles are tied to a chair.
Fuck.
I’m so fucked.
So goddamn fucked.
My jacket along with my gun and bulletproof vest have been stripped off. I’m in the center of a hotel room, facing the windows. Voices can be heard in the other room, and it’s clear that JJ had no intention of talking to me. Honestly, I should’ve known better, but I’d hoped he would give me a chance to make things right before shit escalated. Though thinking back to the last time I was here, he told me I’d be dealing with his father if I didn’t get him the money.
I’m going to die, is the first thought that surfaces. What other option do I have? I can’t defend myself. I don’t have their hundred grand, and even if I did, I have an eerie suspicion they’d take it and still shoot me just for their trouble.
Swallowing hard, I inhale sharply at the thought of never seeing Maddie and my friends again. When they find out—if they ever find out—what happened, they’ll be shocked as hell. Living this double life has been exhausting, so perhaps it’s what I deserve.
I’m lost in my thoughts when I hear a door open and feet shuffle inside. My spine straightens, and I push all my fears aside. They don’t get the satisfaction of knowing I’m scared for my life.
“Sleeping Beauty’s finally awake,” taunts a man in his late fifties wearing a ten-thousand-dollar suit as he struts in front of me. He folds his hands in front of him, looking every bit powerful and dominating. “You must be Liam.”
I stay silent, and the guy’s lips tick up into a smug smirk. “I’m Johnny O’Leary.”
The boss.
JJ’s dad.
“Sounds like we have some business together,” he states, stepping closer, “so it’d be in your best interest to talk.”
“Where’s JJ?” I ask, cringing at how painful it is to speak. I can feel blood dripping from my nose and down my face.
