Convict (Sin City Salvation 2)

Gypsy leaned forward like a mama bear ready to protect her cub. “It’s easy for you to say, but we did the best we could.”

“And if that hasn’t worked out by now, maybe it’s time for a new approach.”

We stared at each other in a silent war of wills. I was tempted to walk out and wash my hands of the whole situation, but I couldn’t. From the moment I first saw Birdie, she was a tragedy I couldn’t avoid. She needed guidance. Direction. A firm hand. And I wasn’t up to the job, but I wasn’t ready to relinquish it to anyone else either.

“She can live at the compound with me,” I grunted. “But if you want me to do this, that means you have to let me take the wheel here. I can’t have you trying to interfere every time she calls crying about a rule she doesn’t like.”

“I get that,” Gypsy conceded. “I wouldn’t do that. Birdie needs structure. She needs rules.”

“She needs a hell of a lot more than that,” I murmured.

“You can’t let any of the men at the compound touch her,” she blurted. “I mean it.”

“That’s not going to fucking happen,” I snarled and then shook my head. The viciousness of my assurance surprised me, but Gypsy seemed pleased with my response.

“Can you have your guys keep an eye on her for a few more days?” she requested. “Just until the baby is born. And then…” Her head dipped, and her eyes began to water. “Then you can take her.”

“THIS IS IT, JOE.” I threw the paper bag full of cash onto the motel table. “I’m out.”

He draped his scrawny frame back against the chair, narrowing his dark eyes as he looked over me. I’d witnessed that same lusty gaze many times before, but it was all for show. I knew from firsthand experience he preferred girls in a much younger demographic.

Not only had this sick bastard participated in destroying my childhood, but he’d also come back to haunt me after a chance encounter in a casino. Over the past year, he’d bled me out of well over a hundred thousand, and if I didn’t put a stop to it now, it was never going to end.

“You’re out when I say you’re out.” He sniffed the way coke addicts often did. “You’ve got a lot of balls coming in here and trying to tell me—”

“There’s a detective in Vegas.” I met his eyes dead on as I played the only card I had. “He’s been asking a lot of questions about me. About Ricky. I’m out of fucking time, and I can’t keep doing this unless you want me to lead him straight back to you.”

Joe scratched at his nose as he seemed to consider my words. His pupils were nearly black, and his leg bounced up and down so fast it was giving me heart palpitations. I didn’t know what to expect. This threat could work in my favor if he was smart, but it wasn’t likely.

Without warning, he shot up and wrapped his fingers around my throat. “Are you fucking with me, bitch?”

“I’m not.” I clawed at his hand, digging my nails into the dirty flesh. “Get off me.”

His grip was unyielding, and he didn’t relent even after I drew blood. “Maybe I should go ask your sister, huh?”

“You could try.” My voice filled with venom. “But her husband would shoot you dead before you ever opened your mouth.”

He shoved me away, and I stumbled backward, clutching at my tender throat. Joe paced the floor, dragging a hand through his greasy hair. He didn’t like what I’d come to tell him, and I already knew if I wasn’t scoring him cash, I was no longer of use. But I didn’t come here to beg. I’d already made contingency plans. The private investigator I hired in California had provided some rather telling evidence of Joe’s current business dealings. Enough for a couple of felonies, at least. I just hoped it would be enough to motivate him.

“I need the video and the pictures,” I said. “I’ve given you the money. I’ve done what you asked.”

“And you’ll keep doing what I fucking ask,” he turned and spat. “You get the tape when I say you’ve paid your dues and not a second sooner. In the meantime, I have plenty of other ways to put you to work. With a body like that, I could charge a nice premium.”

“It’s not going to happen,” I snarled. “You think what happened to Ricky was bad? I’ll do you worse than I ever did him.”

He came at me again, slamming me into the wall and cutting off my air supply with his forearm. I dug my nails into his skin, but his grip was undoubtedly homicidal this time.

“How about I just fucking kill you right here and be done with it?”