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What I didn’t expect was the knife to my throat the second the door closed behind me.
“No sudden moves, bitch.”
Holding my hands up plaintively, keys dangling from one finger, I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see a skinny man in a hoodie crouched behind me, a wicked looking blade in his hand pressed right against my Adam’s apple.
Javier.
“Now, you’re gonna start this fancy as fuck truck up and we’re gonna go somewhere. Just you and me.”
“Alright,” I said, moving slowly to turn over the engine. “I’ll drive you anywhere. Just tell me where and I’ll take you. No problem.”
“Just fuckin’ drive!”
At this point, the farther we got from Ricki, the better, so I dropped the truck into gear and did as I was told, casting one last glance up to her lighted window, the smashed glass reminding me of the disastrous turn our night had taken and why I was even in my truck with this piece of shit in the first place.
Pulling away from the curb, I pointed the truck down Myrtle Avenue, my hands sweating where they gripped the leather of the steering wheel, my heart in my throat.
We rolled through the late-night streets of Queens, the traffic getting thicker the closer to the water we got, and I did my best to hold my head still, but as we went over a particularly rough pothole, I could feel the knife nick my throat. It wasn’t a bad cut, but it was enough to let me know this asshole meant business.
“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” I asked cautiously when we had gone a good distance away.
“Just head to The Bronx. I’ll tell you more when we get there.”
“What is it that you want?” I asked, knowing exactly who this jackass was, but not having much choice in how I handled the situation. As much as I wanted to strangle this fucker, the last thing I needed was to give him a reason to deliver the closest shave I’d ever had.
No, the smarter plan was to let him think he had the upper hand, so he grew complacent, then I could make a move at the first opportunity.
“What I want is what I fuckin’ paid for, and that bitch is going to give it to me.”
His words chilled my blood; I didn’t want this guy anywhere near Ricki, but short of killing him, I didn’t know how to protect her.
The thought made me pause. Was I prepared to kill someone? I’d never considered the fact that I might have it in me to be a murderer, but I’d also never been in the position where taking a man’s life would protect someone I loved.
I thought, when presented with such a situation, I’d have a difficult time making the choice to kill someone.
Turned out, it wasn’t such a hard decision after all.
Chapter thirty-seven
Ricki
Henevercameback.
I didn’t know why I was surprised; I’d basically pushed him out the door, my bullshit attitude and frigid personality once again making it so that I was essentially unbearable to be around. Shit, I’d have walked out on my surly ass, too.
Part of me had been clinging to the words Asher had angrily snarled at me before he left, the ones where he’d promised he wasn’t giving up. I had stood there in my kitchen, clutching my necklace and silently begging him to open the door again.
I’d have even been happy if he’d just come back inside to yell at me some more. It was what I deserved, after all.
But he hadn’t.
And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn’t mad at him for not coming back.
I was sad.
Because despite all the bullshit I could make myself spout about how I didn’t need him or anyone—despite what I’d said about him being justsome guy—the harsh truth was that I did need him.
And he was definitely not just some guy.
