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There’s another car waiting which is mundane. But I can’t do a fucking thing until we get confirmation of where MG might be.
Fuck, I don’t know why I want to rescue her anyway. She’s hot, a great fuck, but—
I scowl as I pace. Then I push open the door to the balcony and go out, leaning on it as I take a swallow from the bottle.
Who the fuck am I even kidding?
MG has the unnerving ability to wiggle in under my skin, slide down deep. And… I know she’s in trouble. It’s the simple truth.
She might be a lot of things, but… But she’s not the type to be sloppy. Being caught with a thug on camera is either her under duress or being sloppy.
And she knows we’re Quinate, me and Hendrick.
If she stole and double crossed, we wouldn’t know a thing until she was so far underground, we’d never see her again.
I take a shaky breath and do what I’ve been putting off. I turn my phone back on, and ignoring the missed calls and texts, I find the number and press call.
“Well, fuck,” says Hendrick. “It’s about fucking time, asshole.”
Carlos is on the balcony, where I can see him and he can see whoever’s in the room, but he’s giving the illusion of privacy.
That and I know he’s getting close to finding where they took MG.
There’s a sharp knock, and I pull the door open.
The fuckface himself, Hendrick, sister-fucker, jewel thief-fucker, all round-fucker, narrows his eyes at me.
I know by the way the old hate rolls through me, fog thick and hot, that my attempt at staying cool, calm, and collected is pretty much fraying.
“The Heart of Darkness is gone.”
Hendrick’s words hang.
He doesn’t step into the hotel room, but his gaze flickers past me, taking everything in.
He’s even more joyless than usual. Why MG ever fucked him more than once is beyond me. “You must be some lay.”
“If you’re angling for an invite, you’re not my fucking type, Jac. And did you hear me? Or did you know?”
“I’m trying,” I start, pushing the words out, “to keep from going on a murder spree. And all I know is someone took MG.”
“She and her little partner in crime switched the necklace.”
I nod. “You own this dump we’re in now?”
“No.”
“Pity.” I turn and punch a hole in the wall. The pain is sharp but not enough to overcome the fury still whipping through me.
Hendrick gives me a dark look as he steps into the room. His suit is immaculate. He’s freshly shaven and put together, and the only give away to perhaps a lack of sleep or stress is the deepened lines at his eyes.
It’s uncomfortable because it’s a fraction of how he looked after Lily’s death. When he was denied attendance at her funeral.
“Never change, Jac,” he mutters. Then he looks at my rum, heads to the bottles on the cart, and takes the whiskey, pouring himself a glass. Leaning against the armchair, he sips it. “So tell me why I should believe you didn’t kidnap MG?”
I just laugh. “Fuck kidnapping. I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.”
“Figured.”
