“How much she have on her?”
“Didn’t count it yet.” Harry pulled the wad of bills out of his pants pocket.
Raymond snatched it. “I wanna count it.” Harry rolled his eyes but allowed Raymond to shuffle through the bills. “Fifty-six hundred,” Raymond announced proudly.
“Wrong,” I said. “There’s only five grand there, you idiot. It’s what I owe your father.”
“Don’t make funna me!” he yelled in my face. “You should be nice. I told Harry not to hurt you. And I sent you a present.” He huffed. “I’ll count it again.”
A present? The realization turned my stomach. The necklace. Raymond had stolen the necklace from Enzo’s apartment and sent it to me. But why?
He parsed through the stack of bills with an agonizing lack of haste as I shuddered, disgusted that I had worn a gift from this jerk. And I didn’t see how it made sense. He’d stolen from his own brother? Maybe Enzo isn’t involved.
“Yep. About Five G’s.” Raymond looked pleased with himself and pocketed some cash.
“Hey, gimme some too,” demanded Harry.
Raymond looked put out, but he handed Harry a few bills and tamped the rest of it together. “Should I put this behind the pishmission?”
“Partition! Partition! How many goddamn times I gotta tell you how to say that word!” shouted Harry. “And it’s not a partition, it’s just a wall. You drive me fuckin’ crazy.” He grabbed the money from Raymond. “Move the sofa.”
Raymond did as he was told, revealing a removable panel in the wall. Behind it was a stash of guns, booze, and cash. My insides twisted painfully—this was an elaborate setup. What did they want with me?
Harry shut the panel and moved the sofa back in place. “Now where should I put her? In the bedroom?”
“Yeah. For now.” Raymond looked at me, a glint in his eye. “I think you’ll like it there, got a little surprise for you.”
“Wait a minute.” I dug my heels in before Harry could drag me away. “Why are you keeping me here? What do you want?”
“What everyone wants, doll,” said Raymond with a ghoulish leer. “A piece of the pie.”
“And since no one was gonna give us any, we decided to serve ourselves.” Harry laughed obnoxiously before giving me a shove down a short hallway to our left. He opened a door and pushed me through it, pulling it closed behind him.
The room was dark and fetid. As my eyes adjusted, I saw a bed in front of me.
Someone was on it.
I gasped, and the person moved. At least it’s not a dead body, I thought with temporary relief. But was it one of them? Pressing my back to the door, I stiffened. “Who’s there?”
The person sat up. “Tiny?”
Chapter Seventeen
It was Daddy.
Relief flooded me and I rushed toward him, my throat closing up. Our reunion wasn’t joyful, exactly, but it was as happy as we had ever been to see one another. We embraced the best we could with one of his hands cuffed to a metal bed frame and my wrists tied together. I leaned into him, weeping on his chest, and he squeezed me with one arm. His shirt smelled terrible, but I didn’t care.
“They kept telling me they were going to hurt you,” he said, sniffling a little. I hadn’t seen him cry since my mother died. “Are the girls all right?”
“They didn’t hurt me,” I lied, hoping it was too dark for him to see the bruise on my head. When I sat up, I let my hair fall over it, just in case. “And everyone is fine. I had Bridget take them out of town. But what’s going on? Why’d they bring us here?” I attempted to wipe my nose with the back of one bound hand, but it was difficult.
“I’ve no idea. For days I was kept in a basement room somewhere, and then in the middle of last night I was blindfolded, cuffed, and brought here. Who are they?”
“The dark one is Raymond DiFiore, Angel’s son. The other is his pal, Harry.” I glanced toward the door and lowered my voice. “Do you think they did this behind Angel’s back?”
“Why do it this way otherwise?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they just wanted the rest of the ransom money for themselves. But why kidnap me?”