his hold on my other arm remained firm, squeezing until I was sure I’d bruise.
Acrid bile rose in my throat when his hand dropped to touch my ass, but he only pulled my phone from my back pocket and threw it against the building.
Shit, shit, shit.
Now Cole can’t track me.
Even as I fought it, Mugsy began shuffling us along the walkway before turning onto a narrow path that ran between two sections of the building. I lost sight of the door. I couldn’t see any doors. But what I could see was a car parked at the end.
Oh hell no.
Fear tightened my chest and my breaths came in rough pants.
Be smart. Calm. This isn’t the first time someone has come after me.
Frantically scanning the area, there was no one else around.
I doubted anyone inside would be able to hear me scream—a bone-chilling thought.
Since it was unlikely a rescue was coming, that meant one thing.
It was up to me to save myself.
I wasn’t strong enough to take Mugsy in a fight, but I could effortlessly outrun him if he’d loosen his grasp. Outrunning a bullet wouldn’t be so easy, but that was a risk I was willing to take.
Since tugging my arm free hadn’t worked, I went for sympathy. “You’re hurting me.”
I should’ve known he wasn’t capable of feeling concern toward anyone but himself. He squeezed harder, his tone earnest. “Maximo Black killed your father, Juliet. You need to come with me before he does the same to you.”
And that was when, despite my best intentions to play it smart, I fucked up.
Because I forgot.
I forgot to act surprised. Distraught. Angry. Vengeful. It hadn’t even occurred to me to pretend I gave one iota of a single fuck at learning of my father’s murder.
Shamus would’ve been proud, I was finally acting like him.
Mugsy noticed my lack of reaction and his beady eyes narrowed. Any hint of faux concern was gone in a blink. “We thought Black was forcing you. Lying to you. But you knew he killed Shamus, didn’t you? And you still slutted yourself out to him. You betrayed your father so you could live in that big mansion and feel like a somebody on the Strip.”
Those eyes I felt on me at the Strip.
They weren’t just Marco’s and Ash’s.
Mugsy sneered in disgust. “What kind of daughter would do that to her father? Thank God Shamus died before finding out his Jule-bug is a whore and a rat.”
His words hit like a cannonball to the gut, taking my breath as they demolished the wall I’d built around my guilt. It flooded me, threatening to rip me apart and take me down.
I held it together because if he got me to the end of the walkway, shit would go from bad to worse. I knew that down to my bones.
“Come with me, we’ll make this right.” His voice was patient and firm, like a father who was dealing with his misbehaving child. “You’re lost. Confused. You wouldn’t betray your own father like this.”
“You need to let me go or Maximo will kill you,” I lied.
Because it didn’t matter what he did, Maximo was going to kill him.
“I’m trying to save you,” he lied right back. “He’s training you so he can sell you to the highest bidder or put you to work as one of his whores at the fights. It’s his MO. He gets off breaking in naïve girls before shipping them off to make him money.”
Maximo wouldn’t do that.
Right?
I didn’t respond beyond trying to twist away.
Clutching my face, Mugsy squeezed my cheeks until they ground painfully against my teeth. “Did you think you were special, Juliet? You mean nothing to him beyond sex and money.” He shook his head with pity. “He’s a billionaire who’s dated actresses. Models. Socialites. Why would he want a white-trash-nothing when he could have anyone in the world?”
Again, his words aimed for a spot of weakness, and they hit their target.
They hit hard.
Why would he choose me? Having sex with me, sure, I understood that. But beyond the physical, why would Maximo—with all his good looks, power, and money—want to be with gutter trash? That question had lurked at the edges of my mind, invading randomly again and again. My insecurities were a loose thread and that question tugged at them, leaving me frayed. Like I could unravel.
Like I was temporary.
Was I just the latest in a long line of barely-legal girls and popped cherries?
Was he going to toss me aside when the next