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“Fuck.” Fat Tommy sways on his feet and almost falls on his ass. He holds his hand to his nose. Blood gushes from it. I stare in shock. This keeps on getting weirder and weirder.
“Tape?” casino man grits out to Tommy.
Tape? Oh God, there’s a tape? Is he mad over some recording?
“She would have screamed if he hadn’t done it. Fuck, Mr. Vincent.”
Casino man—Mr. Vincent, I guess—turns his gaze on me. He drops a large duffel bag on the floor.
It makes me jump.
He stares at my mouth. I fight not to lick my lips, but I lose the battle and wet them.
“Does it hurt?” His dark eyes narrow just a hair.
I stare up at him. Does what hurt? No, better yet what the hell is he doing here? My head starts to spin.
“Your mouth, does it hurt?”
I shake my head. It’s then I realize he’s talking about the tape that was over my mouth. Itdoeshurt, but I keep that to myself. I’m not sure I can talk at this point. Nothing is making sense.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Mr. Vincent levels Scott with a glare.
Thankfully, for once, Scott shuts up. He’s not getting us anywhere good by talking. None of them are listening to him. Everything keeps coming back to me, like this is my fault.
“I’m the man with the twenty grand you need.”
The duffel bag. Is it full of cash? How did this man just happen to show up with twenty grand in a bag? I stare up at his handsome face. In the dim light of the room, he looks more like a villain then anything. A hot one, but still a villain.
“Why?” My voice cracks. My throat hurts from the screaming.
“Does the why really matter right now? You made your deal, and I’m going to be the one collecting.”
He can’t be serious.
“What the fuck does that mean? You’re buying my sister?” Scott starts struggling again.
I fist my shaking hands. Tommy makes anmmpsound as he tries to stop the blood. Wait. Did Mr. Vincent hit him because of the tape over my mouth?
“Tommy, I’ll remove your fucking eyes if you look at her again.”
I cringe. My stomach drops. Tommy stops looking at me immediately. He’s actually scared Mr. Vincent will follow through with his threat. I shouldn’t be grateful for this, but I am. Scott is once again quiet.
I gasp and close my eyes when Mr. Vincent pulls out a knife. Is he going to kill Tommy?
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
I open one eye. He’s right in front of me now, so close I could reach out and touch him.
“Yeah, because you just paid twenty grand for her, you sick bastard.”
Mr. Vincent raises his other hand, prepared to slap the shit out of Scott.
“Please don’t.”
Mr. Vincent stares at me, then slowly drops his hand.
