I looked anxiously down the street, my hands twisting the strap of my bag as I silently begged for one to hurry and the others not to show.
Then again, I don’t know why I bothered looking. I doubted I’d see Kieran until he was directly in front of me.
As much as I’d hated leaving him, I’d needed to. Needed to do this to take care of Momma and me.
He wouldn’t have understood.
He would’ve tried to put an end to it.
And this . . . there was no putting an end to this.
My stomach clenched when the car rolled to a stop at the curb, but I didn’t let it show.
I fought back the nausea and fear and hate.
Head up.
Shoulders back.
Lips twisted.
Eyes laughing.
I pushed from the wall I’d been leaning against and danced toward the car that waited for me, making one last sweep along the street with my eyes as I did.
No assassin.
No black SUV.
I popped open the passenger door and slid into the car, my lip curled when I turned to the driver. “Oh, how I’ve dreamt of all the ways to kill you since I last saw you.”
His eyes raked over me, a breathy laugh punching from his chest. “Ah, little Jess Michaels.”
“The little was disgusting when I was little. It’s worse now because I’m sure you still picture me that way.”
“I picture you all kinds of ways.”
“Fuck you.”
He leaned back in his seat and grabbed his dick through his pants. “Be my guest.”
I flicked open the knife I’d stashed in my palm, my lips spreading into a smile. “Gladly.”
He rolled his eyes and straightened in his seat. “Psycho.”
I pointed toward the street with the knife. A little laugh tumbled from my lips and ended with a sigh. “Drive.”
I always dreaded this trip. Always felt sick over it.
The drive wasn’t long, but tonight it felt like it took seconds.
Because tonight, I didn’t have enough.
I’d been spending my nights with Kieran instead of with clients. But if I hadn’t been waiting for the pickup tonight, AJ would’ve come hunting for me instead. He’d done it before. More times than I wanted to remember. Coming to him shorthanded was the lesser of two evils.
And while I wanted those nights with Kieran again and again, I wished I hadn’t been so stupid with my time.
I got out of the car on shaking legs, but I kept my head held high as I walked into the warehouse.
Long ago I’d been afraid of this place.
Of the seclusion. Of the ropes and chains and shackles that waited inside for AJ and his men to use for torture or pleasure. Of the beds sometimes occupied by couples or passed-out addicts.
But I knew better now. The only thing to fear was AJ.
And I hated that I was afraid of him at all.
Hated that he had so much control over my life.
As soon as I was inside, my bag was taken from me and I was patted down by a new guy.
Groped.
His hand dipped in my shirt, caressing when he pulled my knife from my bra.
I stood still, trying not to scream.
I stomped on the man’s foot when his hand grabbed between my thighs, my wild laugh echoing in the building when he shoved me forward in response.
“Where is she?”
I looked up at the furious question, my skin crawling having him so close to me.
The fear that clung to my spine.
My every nightmare.
AJ.
Tilting my head to the side, I smirked. “Who?”
“Don’t play with me, Jess. Haven’t seen her in days. Then again, haven’t seen you either.” He reached out to touch my hair. I forced myself not to move. Forced the bile back down. “Thought y’all might’ve skipped town on us.”
“On you? Never.” I lifted my hand to study my nails. “She’s just been sick.”
“Bullshit.”
I met his angry stare, my mouth curling into a smile in reply.
“Tell me where she is.”
I lifted a shoulder. “What does it matter when you’re still getting paid?”
My bag was thrown on the ground not far from us, and one of AJ’s assholes snapped, “A thousand short.”
AJ slowly looked from my bag to me, his chilling face etched from stone. “That right?”
“Yeah, well there’s that,” I said with a roll of my eyes.
“And where’s the rest, Jess?”
“I’ve been sick too.” I faked a pathetic-sounding cough. “Must be something I caught last time I was here. Bastard Plague?”
The sound of a gun racking came from behind me. I kept my eyes on AJ’s.
“I wanna know where your mom is. I wanna know why she ain’t been around. And I wanna know where the rest of my money is.”
“Hmm.” I lifted my index finger and looked at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Go . . .” I murmured, drawing the word out then did the same with my ring finger. “Fuck . . .” Dropping them both, I lifted my middle finger in their place. “Yourself.”
AJ lunged for me.
I tried to sidestep him, but someone gripped my hair and yanked me back in time for AJ to grab me by my throat and slam me down.
My head smacked off the concrete floor and the air fled from my lungs when searing pain spiderwebbed across my skull.
Light burst across my vision, mixing with a darkness I fought against as I struggled for air.
“You know better. You fucking know better,” he spat, his face directly in front of my own. “Get my money. You hear me?” His hand tightened on my throat as he lowered his body onto mine, laughing when I thrashed against him.
Trying to get his body off me.
Trying to get away from his smell.
“Get my money, Jess, or I’m coming for you. And I’m taking it.”
I rolled to my side and forced myself up when he pushed himself off me, hating that I sounded so weak as I sucked in air.
“Two grand,” AJ called out as he walked toward the door of the warehouse with his group of assholes.
“I’m short half that,” I bit out.
He stopped and turned, his hungry gaze raking over me. “Three grand. Or I’m taking it. You have a week.”
Fuck.
AJ’s driver stepped into the warehouse and let loose a low whistle when I was grabbing my bag off the floor. “Trying to get yourself killed, Jess?”
“Not this time,” I mumbled to myself as I bent to grab my knife where it had been tossed near the edge of the room and clipped it to my bra.
“You know . . . I’d be happy to help you start earning that cash.”
I grabbed the closest thing to me, one of the many steel chains, and swung it at him.
It snapped inches from his face, but he still stumbled back with his hands raised in surrender. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“What was that, baby?” I asked as I stalked toward him, chain still in hand.
“Got it. Jesus. Get in the car, you fucking psycho.”
“I’ll walk.” I dropped the long chain into my bag, my glare on him as I passed by him and into the night air.
I needed to breathe.
I needed to get the smell out of my head.
I needed the memory of his weight out of my mind.
I needed to fill my ears with anything other than his voice.
I needed him.