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“It’s really true then?” I drift to the windows, hugging myself. “Those guys really want me dead?”
“Nothing personal, but hey, that’s the way it goes in this town when you steal from the casinos. They’ll gladly murder a girl if it means scaring the rest of the would-be thieves away.”
I take deep breaths to steady myself. Ren’s talking about my death like it’s no big deal—like he almost wants it to happen. His tone, more than anything, scares the hell out of me.
“I really don’t have much choice, do I?”
“The way I see it, you either paint like your life depends on it, because it does, or you take your chances in the desert.” He follows my gaze to the brown-and-dark-green landscape. Beautiful and arid and deadly. “Who knows, if you’re smart and lucky and you follow the road, you might make it.”
I stare back at him, eyebrows knitted. “Are you serious?”
“Not at all. You’d die, but hey, that’d make my job a lot easier.” He sighs, turning away. “I’m in charge of liaising with Frost and Gallo, and trust me, that’s a real fucking pain in the ass. It’d be a huge weight off my shoulders if you just killed yourself.”
I stare at him, my mouth hanging open, trying to understand how someone could talk about something horrific like it’s putting on a pair of comfortable jeans.
“You could always let me go. Give me some water and good shoes, and maybe I’ll make it.”
He snorts. “Not on your life. Get smart and listen to Erick. Prove you’re useful or he can’t keep you safe much longer. Or not, whatever.” Ren waves as he walks off.
I stare after him, heart racing, head spinning. I have to sink down into a stool, my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths.
Finally, for the first time since coming here, my situation feels real.
It’s not some joke. It’s not some game. Erick isn’t manipulating me for his own amusement.
Two of the most powerful men in Vegas want me dead, and my kidnapper is the only thing keeping me from a very gruesome and painful death.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking fuck.
How the hell did my dad think this was going to end? He steals all that money, disappears, and what? He figured the casino lords would just leave me alone?
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. He left me for dead, knowing damn well they’d come for me.
All for one more score.
My dad isn’t a drinker. He’s not a smoker, he doesn’t take drugs, but he’s an addict all the same.
Addicted to the score. To the thrill of pulling off a job.
To the point that he’d even get his own daughter murdered for the win of a lifetime.
My hands clench and tremble. I’m so mad I could scream. I stand up and pace again, but this time, it’s like I’m a wild animal.
Ren’s right. I won’t survive out in the desert. Maybe for a little while, but even with water, there’s a good chance I’d get lost. One wrong turn and I’m finished. One misstep, one turned ankle, one snake bite, and it’s a slow, agonizing, and lonely end.
I turn back to the reference book. I whip it open, flipping through the pages, heart racing, until I find the Vermeer.
The Concert.
Can I really do this?
Turn into my father to save my own life? Leave behind all my personal morals, my beliefs, my ethics, just to keep breathing one more day?
It’s a horrendous, impossible choice, and Erick made it clear that I don’t have long to figure it out.
Chapter10
Erick
