Abe’s flippant tone sours. “Like that matters to the government, to the drug companies, to our fucked up health-care system. But when your precious is affected, all of a sudden it’s someone’s life and it’s not a game.”
“Our health-care system is fucked up,” I agree flatly. “The drug companies are leeches. The government doesn’t do enough when it’s needed and butts in when it’s not. You’re right, but taking her life won’t change any of that. How does this help?”
His bark of laughter is a switchblade—short, sharp, cutting. “I’m not interested in helping. That shit’s beyond helping, but they’ll at least pay.”
“Paying doesn’t have to mean killing. And does it really get you what you want?”
“I want my mother back. Can you give my dead mother back to me, Mister Moneybags? Can your wealth and power reverse how this ruined system left her for dead?”
I close my eyes, hearing the bleak fury in his voice. I’m completely ill-equipped to do a damn thing about it.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say after a moment, “but what will this prove?”
“How does it help? What does it prove?” he mocks. “You’re a pathetic negotiator. You’re supposed to figure out what’s important to me, and neither of those things matter at all. Nothing does anymore. That’s the point you’re missing. So I’d just as soon shoot your little girlfriend’s head off as take a piss out in the jungle. She doesn’t matter.”
That red rage replaces any sympathy I might have felt for this lunatic.
“Nix matters to me and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Nix, is it?” His voice is again lilting, taunting. “She must hold a very special place in your heart, Moneybags.”
“There’s not a price too high. Just name it.”
“I’ve told you what I want. My mother back. Got a wire transfer for that, do you?”
“So you punish innocent people in your mother’s name? I’m sure she’d be so proud.”
Grim’s head drops to his hands and he releases a frustrated exhale.
“You’re a dumb fuck, aren’t you?” Abe demands with a caustic laugh. “I’ve got your piece of pussy right here, and you dare insult me. I have six men who don’t mind sharing. There’s seven, but one of them doesn’t like girls, so you know. To each his own.”
Fear sends my heart nosediving. Rage breathes fire down my neck.
“Don’t,” I choke out. “Don’t hurt her.”
“Say you’re sorry and maybe you’ll win the game.”
Die. Die. Die.
“Say it, you idiot,” Grim snaps. “If you don’t want her dead before he hangs up, say it.”
Kimba’s gasp, her tears. Mr. Hunter’s wide, terrified eyes. Jin Lei’s anxious frown. The disdain of Grim’s stare.
I messed up, and if this psychopath harms even one hair on Lennix’s head because of my stupidity, I’ll never forgive myself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Very good.” His pause screams delight and contempt. “Now beg.”
“Please.” It comes easily because I’d say anything to save her.
“I’ll think about it.”
The line goes dead.
“Dammit!” I bang the handset on the table once, twice, three times, four, until it cracks down the middle.
“King, stop,” Grim says. “Breaking the phone won’t change anything. You messed that up real good, brother.”
“I . . . I’m . . . shit.” I push shaking fingers through my hair and squeeze the bridge of my nose. “I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. He just . . . he has her, Grim. What will he do to her?”
He shakes his head and shoots a furtive glance at Mr. Hunter.
My gut knots at the finality in that look.
“We have to find her,” I tell him. “We have to go get her.”
5
Maxim
“I found her,” Grim says a few hours later, striding into my office, triumph and trepidation equal shareholders on his face.
“The signal?” I ask. “The tracker?”
“Yup. Wherever they are is remote for sure, and at first we couldn’t pick it up to activate. They may have been in a forest so dense we couldn’t grab it. They must have left an area we couldn’t detect it to a place where we can.”
“When do we leave?”
“We?” Grim cocks one brow.
“You can’t possibly think I’m letting you do this without me. While I do what? Stay here like some house pet waiting for you to come back? The fuck. You know me better than that. He has my girl, Grim.”
“You’re not trained for this.”
“I’m an excellent shot.”
“Shooting what? Geese? Shooting for sport on your daddy’s ranch? A human target is different. Shooting a person is . . .” He pauses, leveling a warning glance at me. “Killing a person