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“The manacles are too tight to try and get your hand through, nothing short of smashing your bones to pulp or cutting them off’ll work. The former means you have limited time before swelling and the latter’s gonna put a fucking crimp in your career.”
“Both will do that,” I say. It hurts to talk. Did he…?
The memory of the slam of his knuckles into my face comes back, and I groan.
I move my jaw and a dull pain, a stiffness, pulls. I poke the inside of my cheek with my tongue. Swollen, sore to the touch, but as I move my tongue to my lip, no coppery tang of blood.
A backhander by someone who does this shit for a living. He’s in charge of whatever this is. Maybe there’s someone above him, but for this part? He’s in charge. His balls didn’t get the Magdalena patented drug-fueled kick.
And also, when he hit me, he didn’t dislocate my jaw. He could. Because the man’s big and beefy. Strong.
For the first time, I take him in. He’s wearing the kind of ugly rings that are knock off class rings, the type for sale at any pawn shop or low rent jeweler. That means something to me, but my brain isn’t at a hundred percent yet. So I shift my focus back to how he didn’t kill me when he hit me.
He’s got enough power to cause damage, but he didn’t. He gave me a warning. Enough to hurt, not enough to maim.
Professional.
Following orders?
I suck in a slow and quiet breath. It brings me to the uncomfortable question of how the fuck he knew I had anything to do with the Heart of Dark Desires. And did he know I stole it from Hendrick? It’s the only reason I can think of for us to have gone to Harry’s.
Or he made an educated guess.
Again, questions buzz.
To the general population it’s not known. Most thuggish goons aren’t going to know it either and…
I stop.
Force the calm back.
In my brain, I go back. I piece together taking him to Harry’s.
I put in her alarm system; I know how to bypass it.
Things get murky, but I took another expensive necklace with similar stones from my collection. Gave him that.
The Heart of Dark Desires…I remember holding it, but I gave him the other. Hid the priceless necklace. That makes me want to smile. He won’t be able to get the actual necklace. Sleight ofhand’s very much in my wheelhouse, and he won’t be able to find them. Not even Harry will be able to find them.
Maybe not even me because right now, wherever I put them’s a blur. And I leave it as such. It feels safer.
I look at him. “What do you want?”
“Me?” he asks, “I don’t want anything. I got what I want.”
“Why am I still here, then?”
He eyes me.
“Once it’s vetted, you’ll be handed over.”
“It?”
He grins, gold gleaming in the low light. From his pocket he pulls the necklace I gave him and he swings it, looking at me without too much concern.
Either he doesn’t know his jewels, or he’s definitely just the head henchman.
That pisses me off. If someone’s going to go to the trouble of kidnapping me, then don’t send a lackey.
