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Bruno cocks his head to the side, listening to a voice we can’t hear. “Incoming.”
Outlaw raises his gun, pressing the metal barrel hard against my temple. “Safety's on,” he whispers, but it doesn’t make me feel much better.
I don’t have to pretend to be terrified. With my hands bound, a wad of cloth in my mouth keeping me from screaming, and a gun pointed at my head, there are so many things that could go wrong. Sweat drips down my temple, soaked up by the gag.
The doors creak open, and two of my father’s guards walk in. They fill the door. Bulky rectangles in suits, with short haircuts, dark shades and in-ear communication devices. Their guns are out, and they're pointing them right at us.
“Easy,” Shadow says from the side, holding his hands up in front of him, palms towards the security guys. “We're here to deal, so put ‘em the fuck away.”
The guards scan the room, and I pray to whatever god might be listening. “Clear,” one of them says. “She’s here.”
“Then let’s get this over with.” God, I definitely haven’t missed that voice.
“Yes, Sir.” The guards step out of the way, parting to let Vincent through.
He steps in, cool and collected in a business suit that makes it seem like he’s just running an errand on the way to his next meeting. It looks bulkier than usual, though. I bet he's got a bulletproof vest underneath. The annoyed expression on his face turns sour when he spots me.
“Alright. You’ve had your fun. Hand her over, and I'll let you slink out of town like the dogs you are. I don’t know what you think you’re going to achieve, but you’re lucky I’m willing to talk considering what you’ve done.” His nose wrinkles like he's smelling something bad.
“We’re lucky?” Shadow replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You should be grateful we didn’t drop that whole damn thing on your fucking head. People like you are fucking scum, and I want to your word you’ll stay out of our territory.”
“Oh, for Christ's sake. Who are you to act like you’re better than me? Your club has so much blood on its hands the streets are running in it.” Vincent brushes a speck off the sleeve of his suit jacket.
“We defend our own,” Shadow says calmly, not denying it. “Can you say the same?”
Outlaw wraps my hair in his fist and yanks my head, the barrel of his gun still digging into my temple. I whimper in very real fear. How much do I really mean to my father? He wasn’t the one that changed my diapers or held me when my heart was broken after my first boyfriend dumped me right in the middle of homecoming. I’m just a pawn in a game that keeps adding more and more players.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Vincent snarls. “What do you think threatening the girl will accomplish? Or are you all too stupid to think that far ahead?”
“Like you just said. It got you here, didn’t it?” Shadow mocks. He turns his head and spits on the floor. “Now can you give us the assurances we need or don’t you have control over your people?”
Vincent’s smooth demeanor slips for a moment, more annoyed at his power being questioned than the threat to my life. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Don’t play fucking innocent. We know everything that goes in and out of our town, and unlike the cops, we don't give a shit what would hold up in court. You sit here all smooth, but your business is rotting. Either you’re getting sloppy, or your grip is slipping. Which is it, Vinny? Word’s going to get out about what we did, and we won’t be the only ones asking these questions.”
“Do you even realize what you did? That chandelier was one of a kind. It's going to cost me a fortune to get the artist back, and the materials alone are worth more than your walnut brain can comprehend.”
“I was talking about stealing your daughter from her own fucking wedding, but good to know your priorities. And where’s the groom? Doesn’t he give a shit either? Damn. I didn’t expect much from a man pushing dirty product, but that’s cold.”
Vincent’s face contorts into a furious mask. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let my daughter go and I’ll let you leave with your lives. That’s all the assurance I’ll give.”
I’m not an expert, but this isn’t going well. One side is going to have to back down eventually, and so far my father hasn’t said anything that incriminates him in anything beyond being a cold hearted jerk. Is everyone off base? The only proof I have that he’s involved in drugs is what Carnell and the bikers have said. What if I’ve chosen the wrong side in this? My father might have pressured me into marrying Devin, but so far the only people to hold a gun to my head have been the men I’ve decided to put my trust in.
