Insatiable (Steel Brothers Saga #12) - Helen Hardt Page 0,14
meant. This was nothing compared to what Colin had endured at Tom Simpson’s hands. I was full of fire, though, and I didn’t feel like playing nice.
So much for my catching-flies-with-honey idea. I just wasn’t cut out for it.
At least Colin hadn’t gotten any puke on his clothes. He’d aimed it all at the floor. Dave sopped it up with a towel and then sprayed disinfectant on the spot.
“I see you have disinfectant. But not an antiemetic?”
“For God’s sake,” Dominic said. “We’re trying our best here.”
“Try harder,” I said through clenched teeth. “You can start by telling me why you think Colin and I needed to be kidnapped—which is a felony, by the way—for our own protection.”
“I don’t know. I’m only given the information I need.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your prerogative, but there’s nothing more I can tell you. Look. You know me. You’ve had lunch with me.”
“Yeah, I must be a shitty judge of character,” I said. “Not once during lunch did I say to myself, ‘hmm, I think this guy might be a kidnapper.’”
“We have more drugs, you know,” Alex said. “I say let’s knock her unconscious.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I said. “You and I never had lunch.”
She rolled her eyes. Again.
“What’s up with her?” I asked Dominic.
“She’s just being herself. It irks her that our clients don’t appreciate what we do for them.”
“Yeah, must be difficult, when your victims don’t appreciate being drugged and abducted.”
“That’s exactly what pisses her off,” Dominic said. “The way you’re being. Right now. I know you don’t get it, but what we do is a means to an end, and we’re paid very well.”
“I’d imagine someone would have to pay you well to break the law. And that someone is apparently my dead father.”
“I have no idea if your father is dead or not.”
“I do. I watched him get shot. It’s a visual I’ll never forget. He’s very much dead.”
“That information hasn’t been shared with me.”
“He is, Dominic. You don’t forget something like that.”
“Whether he is or isn’t doesn’t matter. He put plans in place.”
“How? Who’s calling the shots, then? Why are we in danger?”
“I already told you. I wasn’t given those details.”
I harrumphed and grabbed another slice of pizza. I’d better eat up. Who knew when we’d get food again.
“You feeling better?” I said to Colin with my mouth full of dough.
“Not really.”
“You should try to eat again.”
“Greasy cheese and pepperoni don’t really sound good.”
“Then try some of the crust.”
“I can’t eat glu—”
“Can’t? Or don’t want to?”
He looked away.
As I suspected. It was in his head. I tore the rim of crust off my piece of pizza and handed it to him. “Come on. It’s only plain bread.”
He winced, clearly disgusted.
“You have to eat, Colin. If you don’t have an allergy or celiac, this won’t make you sick.”
Finally, he nodded and took the piece of crust and shoved it into his mouth.
Yeah, he was hungry.
“When will we eat next?” I asked, my mouth still full.
“In the morning,” Dominic said. “Breakfast.”
“We’re going to be here all night?” No way.
“You’ll be here until we hear otherwise.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, until we receive instructions otherwise,” he said, clearly irritated. “I say what I mean, Marjorie. You don’t have to read between the lines.”
“Right. You said exactly what you meant when we first met.”
“I did. I told you I was a personal trainer, and I am.”
“It’s not your primary job.”
“So? It wasn’t a lie.”
I grabbed another slice and ripped the crust off, handing it to Colin. Then I shoved a third of it into my mouth.
I was done being ladylike. It wasn’t working anyway. I eyed Colin munching on the crust I’d given him. I pointed toward something with my eyes.
Dave had set something on the table next to Colin when he’d gotten a rag to clean up the vomit.
His cell phone.
Chapter Eleven
Bryce
Once we were able, Joe and I gave statements to the police. It was nearly dark when Joe—who’d declined his sedative at the hospital—drove us home in Melanie’s car. I was relegated to the back seat, but the Tesla Model X had more than enough room for my long legs.
Both of us still had swollen and bloodshot eyes, but our vision had cleared and was nearly back to normal. Normal enough for Joe to feel comfortable driving, anyway.
“Oh!” Melanie said suddenly.
“What? What’s wrong?” Joe said frantically.
“It’s nothing. A Braxton-Hicks contraction. They come on suddenly and happen more frequently during stressful times.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” Joe said. “I’ve added a load of stress to your life.”