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“Why’d you do it?” He asked. “You two were about to be at the top of this business. Just bringing her in would’ve set you both up for life. You could’ve just chosen to retire with that payout.”
I couldn’t have answered that question if my life really did depend on it.
So, I stayed right where my happy ass was on that floor and just stared back at him.
“Her pussy couldn’t really taste that good?” He added with that fucked up smile again.
But it could.
Because it did.
Ecstasy.
That memory was enough to ground me for the duration of whatever this little meeting was about to entail.
The little blonde nodded her head at Bryce when she was done setting up the camera directly across from me. She pushed a couple buttons on it before she stepped all the way back to the other corner of the room, still never looking my way.
“I’m going to need you to tell them that we’re willing to offer two of you quick deaths if Trista is brought back to Philadelphia, back to Nate, alive,” Bryce said.
“Which two?” I asked.
“You and Trista.”
“What happens to Memphis?”
“We’ve got other plans for her,” he smiled again when he said it, and rather than running cold, my blood turned to boiling lava. “Tell them,” he said and nodded to the camera.
I looked right into that camera. There was no way it was a live feed. They’d never risk me saying anything worthwhile to either of those girls. “Stay where you are, Fancy Face. Right where you are. They have no idea how to find you.”
Bryce was on top of me a second later, swinging the fist attached to his good arm over and over again until blood was pouring out of my mouth and the whole room looked fuzzy. He shook his hand and wiggled his fingers when he stepped back.
“Sorry. Did my face hurt your fist?” I asked and spat out a mouthful of blood in his direction.
“Ready to try again? We’ll offer two of you quick deaths. Trista goes back to Nate. Otherwise, what happens to you only gets worse with every day that passes from this point.”
“How does it feel?” I asked instead. “To be outsmarted by two girls? Knowing you have no chance at finding them yourselves if they don’t want you to?”
He hit me hard enough that time that I was little convinced he cracked a tooth.
“You don’t even know her,” he said. “What do you get out of protecting her?”
“If the end result is my death either way, what does it hurt to give her the chance to survive?”
He wasn’t happy about that response either.
But we played that game until he was mad enough to knock my ass out cold.
CHAPTER TEN
trista
I spent the last two days driving all over this bland state in search of the things on the list from Memphis. Any worker in any of these stores would know what she wanted if they saw the list, my ass. She intended to establish some kind of presence online, one that Nate’s best would be able to find, but not the lower level tech crew so it didn’t look obvious that she was just out for information. She wanted them to find this created space, that had no link to our location, so they’d be able to start sending whatever it was that they would demand from the two of us in regard to Jersey. I tried to tell her more than once that what they wanted was me. And that they wanted me back in Philly. They’d want me dropped right at Nate’s front door. That was going to be the demand, but it probably wouldn’t be in exchange for releasing Jersey. He’d been right. They’d never let any of us just walk away from this now, but Memphis was certain that having some form of communication opened with them would provide a path for her to find where they were keeping him. Then we could figure out a next step from there.
After telling her for the last two days that whatever it was that she so desperately needed from this list simply wasn’t available in Indiana, she said she’d call in a favor to another Judge from Nate’s organization. No amount of pleading with her changed her mind either. It was a bad idea all the way to its core. Involving any of them was dangerous. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around how she could trust any of them who were still tied to that crowd, but for every question I asked, she was quick to remind me that our options were limited. She’d arranged for me to pick up whatever was left of her list at some middle-of-nowhere truck stop in Northern Indiana since the person bringing it would be coming from Michigan. I wasn’t supposed to be meeting with or talking to anyone. The person leaving the package was supposed to be able to beat me there by a long shot. It was supposed to be hidden in a false trash can somewhere on the lot, and it was supposed to be obvious which would be the correct one.
Shady business deals were nerve wracking though. I wasn’t even a full hour into the drive North and I’d already convinced myself that somebody driving a blue Mercedes had recognized me when I stopped for gas and had been following me ever since. When that car was still behind me an hour later on the interstate, I gave in and called Memphis.
“Problem?” She asked by way of answering the phone.
