Page 135 of The Kingpin's Call Girl

I give her a solemn look. “We’ve seen his face, Mary.”

“I know,” she says softly. “He’s completely unhinged. You have no idea.”

“I have some idea.” I stand up again and go to the bars, staring hopelessly out at the dank basement. Bender is an outright sociopath who probably killed Darren, but it doesn’t seem like a helpful detail to add.

“Hey.” She comes up to me and pokes me in the shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. We’re the Flying Frittatas.”

I manage a smile at the stupid name we used to call ourselves. Blast from the past. “Where did we even think of that?”

She shakes her head.

“Frittata,” I say.

“Forget frittatas—a mafia guy? You?”

“I know.”

My right-hand fingers are all pins and needles now. It hurts.

“Miss Straight-A Proper Girl?Youare into aliteralmafia guy?”

“Yeah.Luka. He’s hot and wild and brilliant, and we have fun together, and he’s a caveman and a gentleman?—”

“Ohhhh, hold on. Luka Zogaj? Bender’s brother Luka?”

I nod. So it’s official. Darren was right, and Bender knows.

“Bender is obsessed with him! He talks about him constantly. Luka fucked up his life or something.”

“Nothing like how Luka’s gonna fuck up his life once he finds us,” I say bravely, even though I have no reason to think Luka would be able to find us. “He’s gonna fuck him up so hard...”

Footsteps sound out, coming down the stairs.

Bender appears.

I back up—I can’t help it.

Mary puts a protective arm around me. She always knows when I’m scared.

“Who’s gonna fuck up who?” Bender asks, coming right up to the bars. “My brother? Is that who?”

“Fuck you,” she says.

“I’m talking to your sister.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” I say.

“Hey, those handcuffs are really tight,” Mary says. “How about you gimme the keys so I can take them off her?”

“They’re really tight?” Bender says with a mock face of concern.

“I can’t feel the fingers on my right hand,” I say. “I don’t think there’s any blood going to my fingers.”

“Come on,” Mary says, ever my protector. “You already have her in a cage. There’s no need to handcuff her.”

“It pleases me. Isn’t that enough?”

I glare.