Mercy (Sin City Outlaws #2)(41)

“We have been driving around all day, waiting for that f*cking Deputy Skeeter to get his head out of his ass and help us. Who knew a f*cking transfer from Vegas to here would be so complicated. Besides, I need to refuel,” Alfeo explains. I close my eyes, and take a steady breath. That is why Deputy Needon was at the club. He’s dirty, and works for Sin City Outlaws. To get leverage here in LA, Frank had him transferred.

“Fine. Get food, then we need to get back on the road.” Frank’s brow raises. “Make it quick.” Looking over the seat I notice Alfeo has a bigger build, and when he leans forward he’s sporting a black ponytail.

“You hungry, piggy?” Frank nudges my leg. Snapping me from assessing Alfeo. I turn and glare at Frank. “You must be hungry.” A genuine smile crosses his face, and I swear to God it’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. The look on his face alone shows how insane Frank really is.

I think I prefer the Joker smile.

I don’t reply, I continue to look at the back of the seat.

“Oh, come on, you must eat.” Tears threaten to spill from my burning eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I hate that he’s trying to be nice, I know it’s fake. Closing my eyes I inhale a staggered breath. I am strong, I am the one with professional training, and a boyfriend who will not stop until I’m found. I can survive this. I will walk away from this.

Opening my eyes, my brows narrow, determination taking over.

“Zeek will come for me,” I eventually break my silence.

Frank’s eyes flick to mine, his face unreadable. “Oh, I hope he does, that’s the plan,” Frank chuckles, confusing me.

The SUV comes to a stop, and I try my hardest to lift myself up and look out the window. I fail, I can’t see a damn thing.

“Hey, Cross, grab me a Coke and get a burger for our friend.” Frank demands, ordering the guy in the passenger seat around. Cross…it sounds familiar, but I can’t put a finger on it.

Minutes pass by and then a hand slaps my thigh and I jolt. “You feeling any better?” Gritting my teeth I try and inch away from him. “Oh, you can’t escape me, little piggy. Learn that now.”

The doors open and the vehicle dips as Cross and Alfeo climb back inside.

“One Coke and burger.” Alfeo hands the food to Frank.

“Here, sit up.” Grabbing onto my cuffs as if they’re a f*cking leash, he pulls me closer, and unfolds the wrapper enclosing the burger. The smell of charbroiled meat and warm cheese wafts around me. My tongue suddenly feels too big and my throat pulses with the urge to vomit once more. I swallow, hoping it will pass when my stomach flips upside down.

A choke-cough rips up my throat. Cross turns in his seat mid bite of his burger and eyes me with a worried look.

“I think she’s going to get sick again.”

“Damn it!” Frank leans over and opens my door, his hand sporting gold rings. He pushes my head over the side of the car. I try to hold the puke back, but it has a mind of its own and hot vomit spills from my mouth. Over and over, I puke. I spit, trying to get the taste out of my mouth, but it does nothing to overcome that acidic taste coating my tongue.

I’m pulled back in, and the door shuts as soon as I’m finished.

“You sick or something?” Cross asks, turning back in his seat. Using my shoulder I wipe my mouth on my shirt, ignoring his question. It’s just stress.

“Maybe she’s pregnant,” Alfeo suggests casually, his mouth full of food.

Frank stills, his eyes widening as he looks my way. “Are you?” A big toothy smile spreads across his face, the physical weight of his stare making me uneasy. My hands instinctively try and shield my lower section as I shake my head. Looking down myself I let the thought sit for a moment. Zeek has pulled out every time since before the trap house, so the chances are slim of me being pregnant. Right? I’m not sure how preventive pulling out really is…

Frank doesn’t say anything further; he just rubs at his chin as his large creepy eyes look pensive. I scoot closer to the door and look out the window. God, hurry Zeek.

Grabbing my cuffs Frank suddenly yanks me down into the seat, my head now in his lap. I try to pull away from him, but his grip is strong. His hand brushes the hair from my face tenderly, and eerily.

“I think you just made everything a whole lot easier,” he whispers. My stomach falls, my head spinning with the twisted shit Frank would say or use against Zeek.

“I’m not pregnant,” I point out, my words sharp.

“Guess we’ll find out, hmm? How much longer before we reach the casino?” Frank barks, his cold hand caressing my cheek. My eyes burn with the urge to cry; the touch of softness contradicting this man’s twisted plans for me, making it harder to comprehend the reality of this situation.

“Couple hours,” Cross answers.

“Get us there faster.”

“You got it, boss,” Alfeo obeys, the vehicle picking up speed and accelerating quickly.

“You think that’s a good idea?” Cross asks, looking over his shoulder.

“Are you questioning me?” Frank’s hand stills, and so does my heart.

“No sir,” Cross replies, turning in his seat.

The vibrating hum of the car, and the way Frank is petting me causes exhaustion to set in like a dead weight. I try to lift myself up, to wake myself up but Frank refuses to let me up. Blinking and yawning, I eventually succumb, and fall into the haziness of a deep sleep.