Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(40)

I double my steps, looking up the road for a car to jack.

Stepping up to a yellow Neon I yank on the handle.

“I didn’t know Dad did those things, that he beat—”

“Doesn’t matter, Lip.” I kick the door and it pops open. Neon’s are the easiest to break into.

“Think Frank will really hurt her if he gets to her?”

I nod, saying the words hurts too much.

“Come on, we can take the club’s SUV.”

Furrowing my brows I look at him in confusion, wondering why he would help me and what his motives really are.

“I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for her.”



Jillian



I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING. My hands are handcuffed behind me causing all my weight to rest on my shoulder painfully.

As soon as we made it outside two men climbed out of an SUV. One covered my head with a black pillowcase while the other handcuffed me. I was then tossed into the back seat.

My breath bursts in and out in heavy pants making the fabric of the pillow case suction to my nose. It’s so hard to breathe, but I continue to take in as much air as my lungs will allow.

“Thanks for the delivery.” An unfamiliar male’s voice sounds from outside the car.

“Where is my cut?” Deputy Needon asks. The door to the SUV shuts, and I can’t hear the conversation any further.

Shifting in the back seat, my head bumps against something warm, like a leg. A door to the front of the car shuts, and the SUV is put into gear.

“Back to the casino, Cross.” A man’s voice from beside me orders. A warm hand brushes the hair from my neck. I jerk away, and a maniacal laugh fills the car.

“You have good instinct to be afraid of me, little piggy.” The leg my head was resting against shifts, and a warm breath sweeps across my neck. My stomach falls, an uncontrollable shakiness in my limbs from being scared. “I kill pigs, not f*ck them.” The man’s voice holds a thick Italian accent to it, the smell of strong cologne suffocating even with the bag on my head. A small whimper trembles from my lips at his threat.

Closing my eyes, my skin races with fear. My heart pounding in a slow pace as I try to take in everything around me. This is Frank.

I was trained to be brave. I was conditioned to be a hero and rely on the justice system. But I feel none of those things right now. Right now, I’m terrified, I’m scared, and I am hoping that Zeek comes and kills every one of these *s.

The car turns, and I slide into the leg more. Suddenly nauseated, my stomach turns. I retch as my throat pulses with the warning I’m about to puke.

“I’m going to get sick,” I warn, trying to sit up.

“Don’t you f*cking puke on me!” Frank orders, shoving my head away from him. The car comes to a screeching halt, nearly throwing me into the floorboard.

The bag is pulled from my head, the light blinding me, as my door is yanked opened. I don’t even see who opens it as I’m kicked from the car so quickly. My back stings where a foot was just slammed, as my body lands on the side of the road with a thud. Vomit races a flaming path up my throat and expels itself onto the side of the road. My stomach clenches, my throat burning, until my stomach empties completely.

Panting, I still to see if I’m done. Trying to buy myself some time, I spit and cough hoping Zeek will show up on a bright and shiny motorcycle to save the day. My vision is blurry from my eyes watering as I look under the SUV toward the road, but there isn’t any sign of a motorcycle, or any car for that matter. No Zeek.

“Are you finished?” Whipping my head to Frank, I see him for the very first time. He has black hair that’s wavy and rests on his shoulders, his eyes dark, and large. He’s wearing a nice suit with a red tie. I’m not sure who he’s trying to fool. He looks like a criminal even under that expensive looking suit. “Fuck you,” I rasp, my voice hoarse from puking.

He scrunches his lips and snaps his fingers. The passenger side of the SUV opens, and a man with black slacks and a white button up shirt gets out. He’s short and stocky, black hair slicked back with tattoos up his neck.

“Put her nasty ass back in the car.” He grabs the metal linking my cuffs and hauls me up, throwing me face first back into the car. Frank grips the back of my neck harshly, and I grit my teeth to keep from whimpering. “You want to f*ck me, piggy? If you’re willing, then you’re not my type, sweetheart.” He shoves me against the door, before releasing his hold on my neck. Sweat barrels up my spine, my chest rising and falling swiftly as I watch him from the side of my eye. I’m not going to lie, I’m scared to death that today is the day I die.

His eyes slowly meet mine, a serious expression fitting his face.

“There it is,” he smiles.

“What?” I snide.

He leans in, a Joker smile stretching across his face and any training, any bravery that was hiding in the pit of my stomach coils up my throat expelling in a whimper. “The fear!” The look on his face alone shows how insane Frank really is.

“Um boss, we’ve been driving around all day, can we get some food before we hit the road?” A voice from in the front asks.

“Are you f*cking kidding me, Alfeo?” Frank waves his hand around angrily.

Alfeo, I close my eyes trying to program that name into memory.