Page 16 of Nine

He holds the bag up higher.

I frown at my feeble attempt to kill Trig. He nods to the table. I trudge over and sit in the chair, fork in hand still. He tosses the bag on the table.

“Fork, please,” he says.

I lift my hand and drop the fork on the table.

“What’s in the bag?” I say, as I keep my eyes directed off Trig.

He pushes the bag toward me.

I slowly pull it closer to me and peek inside.

“A cupcake. You brought me a chocolate cupcake?” I squint my eyes at him.

I’m pissed. What hitman goes out and buys a cupcake? I’m lost for words. It’s incredibly hard to be mad at your captor when he’s doing un-killer like things.

He looks at me for a while and then he leans all the way back in his chair.

“Do you have a problem with cupcakes?” Trig asks.

“No. Just you.” I push the bag back toward him.

He slides it right back at me, and then leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“So this is how it’s going to go. I ask a question. You answer, and then you get a bite. It’s easy. It’s enjoyable and everybody wins. You look like you could use the sugar anyway.”

“You’re forcing me to eat?”

“You eat and play the game or I kill you.”

“Whatever,” I say, as I slump into my chair.

“Name?”

I roll my eyes and exhale. “I’m not playing this game.”

“Yes, you are.” He taps the fork on the table. “Name?” he repeats.

“Fine. It’s Storm Wilson.”

Trig pulls his chair closer to me. He digs the fork into the cupcake and places it up to my lips. I slowly open my mouth and then he shoves it in.

“Why was Victor trying to kill you?”

I take a moment to swallow. The cupcake is pretty damn good, but I’m not telling him that.

“He wasn’t trying to kill me; at least he wasn’t at first. He was trying to break me. I take a lot of business in the area. I’m good to my customers. Clients have left his girls to come see me. It’s a money loss game for these guys. This wasn’t the first time a pimp has harassed me over the years. I’m worth a lot out on the streets. I bring in more profit than any girl in Las Vegas does. He wanted to bring me on board to be his little cash cow.”

Trig breaks off another piece of cupcake and holds the fork up.

“I need those drugs back. Do you have any information on Victor that would help me? Did he say anything to you that night at the hotel?”

“Are you really asking me if we had pillow talk?” I point to my face. “Does this look like we sat down and had a nice conversation?”

“I’m just trying to help you, Nine…or Storm, or whoever you are.”

“Yeah. Sure you are. How does this benefit you?”

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