Page 103

His eyes darken. “No. Don’t play stupid.”

I laugh. “You’ve pumped who knows what drug into me, and probably too much by the sounds of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over there. I barely know my own name right now. So, if you’re asking me a question, you’re going to have to be more direct.”

“Enzo. Your boyfriend killed him.”

“Boyfriend?” I laugh again. “He’s really not going to like it that you called him that. I mean, he’s already going to be really pissed because you have me all tied up like this—he’s a little possessive. He likes to be the only one who ties me up.”

I need to find out what they gave me, because holy hell it’s taken away all reason.

“How much did you put in that syringe?” He tilts his head to the side.

“Fuck, Mario. I don’t remember now.” The youngest of the two rubs the back of his neck. He looks like a little boywho forgot to do his chores. “Not enough to hurt her, I don’t think.”

“You don’t think?” Now the other two are elbowing each other in some sort of sibling fight.

“Your little brothers aren’t much help, are they?” I smile because it will piss him off.

And it does. His jaw tightens even more, and he spins around, barking at the other two. Not in English or Russian. It’s Italian.

Well, fuck.

“Did Marco tell you to come get me? Because I’ve told him a million times, I did not speak to the police about him. I would never. I will never. So, he really needs to let it go.”

My head feels heavy and it’s taking more energy to keep myself upright than before.

“Marco?” He spins back to me. “Marco DeAngelo?”

“So, it wasn’t him?” Great, I’m causing another international incident, and this time it wasn’t even my fault.

“Why does Marco want you?”

“Who said he did?” Good backtracking. Maybe a little gaslighting will work.

“You did. Just now. You said he thinks you talked to the cops. Did you?” He lifts his chin, like he’s more curious now than angry.

“No. I didn’t. But if Marco didn’t send you, then why am I here?”

He tilts his head, inspecting me. Then, as though the single synapse in his brain finally fires, his eyes light up.

“You’re Nico’s chick.” He snaps his fingers with a smile.

“Nico who?”

Mario turns to his brothers. “This is going to work out fine.”

“What’s going to work out? Hello? We were having a conversation over here. I’m sure it’s hard, big people conversations and all—” My words get cut off by the back of his hand ricocheting off my face.

The throbbing behind my eyes morphs into a stabbing sensation, which works well with the stars dancing in my vision.

“Think Marco will take her as a payment?” One of the Tweedles says from behind Mario.

“You owe Marco DeAngelo money?” I huff a laugh. “I’m not worth anything to him.”

“You’re a woman. If you’re still breathing, you’ll do fine in one of his pleasure houses.” Mario’s lips twitch. “Maybe he’d give me a cut of what you bring in. You’re short, kinda cute, I’m sure he’d find lots of daddy types who’ll want to fuck a little girl like you.”

Nausea rolls through me.

“After your boyfriend killed Enzo, he took something that belongs to us. I want it back.” He pulls out a cell phone and aims it at me.