Page 21 of Bronx

Little does she know, he won’t be paying me shit.

He’ll be six feet under.

“And if he’s dead?”

“He isn’t dead.” Her voice quivers.

I quietly stare at the woman, who is now someone I consider a client, down for a few reasons.

One, because I don’t like how she thinks she’s calling the shots when I’m doing this for free.

Second, I wonder how she’s gotten through life not knowing that her brother is a bad dude and doesn’t even deserve this level of concern. He’s probably dead and definitely deserves to be.

And third, I wonder how heavy one of her tits would feel in my hand, or better yet, in my mouth.

My dick twitches in response to that last pondering, which snaps me completely back into reality. This woman is the sister of a man who I’m seriously considering choking to death with my bare hands if he’s even still alive. I cannot even think about her in that way.

She’s completely off limits, dummy.

Remember that.

“I’m not going to charge you. You can’t afford my fee.”

“You don’t know that I can’t pay it.” She sounds offended. “And I’m not asking for a handout.”

“I’m not a typical bounty hunter. I take specialty cases and I charge accordingly. My fee starts at a hundred thousand dollars.”

Her face drops.

“I can’t pay that.”

“Like your brother said, I’ll do it as a favor. What’s his full legal name?”

“You don’t know it?” she asks suspiciously?

“Remind me. Guys like us don’t always use our legal names.”

“Lev Moore.”

The name doesn’t ring familiar but now that I know it, I’ll never forget it. My Father searched for years and couldn’t find any trace of a second kidnapper in the cabin. It was almost as if he vanished into thin air, and that it was me who had the altercation with the pot-bellied Russian and left him for dead.

I wish.

“And what’s your full name?”

“Karma Moore.” She tilts her head in confusion. “Aren’t you going to write any of this down?”

“My head is like a steel vault,” I tell her. “I’ll remember everything you put inside.”

“Um, okay.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about Lev’s daily routine that will help me find him?”

“Like what? I don’t really know much about his daily routine.”

“Does he drink coffee every morning? Does he cook at home or does he eat out? Does he drink? Pay for sex? Anything will help.”

Karma takes a deep, labored breath.