Page 7 of Rami

Alarm spread through Ivy. They were going to drug her. Again. She gasped and shook her head violently.

God, no. Please, no.

Wayne approached with a spoon and familiar black case, the leather so worn it was cracked and white in spots. Tears sprang to her eyes and her tongue burned with the temptation to beg for mercy.

She wouldn’t find that here.

He passed Marty the spoon that held the substance he’d melted moments before then pulled a needle from the bag and handed it to Marty. She popped off the cap and dipped the tip in the miniature pool of cancer.

Terror burrowed deep inside Ivy like a parasite. She couldn’t take any more.

She wouldn’t.

“No!” The scream ripped from her dormant vocal cords. All rationality left her mind. She launched herself away from them.

The metal on her ankle clamped her in place.

Wayne let out a laugh and snagged her calf. She landed on her back and he dragged her closer. “It’s not so bad. You’ll start to like it, I promise.” A glassy sheen coated his eyes—he was already high. “I’ll do it in your foot. Your arms are too beat up.”

“Don’t touch me!” The demand broke on a sob as she kicked and twisted.

Wayne’s laugh turned high-pitched, advertising several missing teeth. His gaze went to her bare thighs, and he licked his lips.

Disgust rippled through Ivy. She pounded her free foot against his shin and thigh—anywhere she could reach.

“Let me go!”

“Here.” Marty handed him the needle.

“Look at ’er fight. This way’s more fun.” He hooked his arm around her knee, holding her in place. When he brought the needle down, she stomped her foot against his arm, nearly knocking the device from his fingers.

He cursed. “Shit! Help me, for fuck’s sake!”

The bottom of Marty’s sneaker came into view then delivered a blow to Ivy’s face. Her head bounced backward and connected with the floor. Bursts of light filled her vision.

The needle plunged into the skin near her ankle. Then the cold trickle of liquid hell touched her veins, freezing her on the spot.

She gasped as the substance traveled up her leg and danced along the inside of her thigh before flooding her system rapidly. Fog hit her brain and her muscles turned weak. She blinked, using all her strength to resist the drug, to hang on to her senses for just a minute longer...

“There you go,” Wayne said cajolingly. His hands were warm and damp on her skin. He caressed her thigh, as if helping the drug move quicker.

Her body floated, and a tingling sensation warmed her from the inside out.

Gigi’s face filled her mind’s eye once again, and she stopped fighting. A smile spread her lips as she was welcomed into her sister’s arms.

Home.

The ground beneath her back turned to quicksand, dragging her down and blotting out her vision.

CHAPTER 3

Rami pushed away his coffee cup, his brain now in overdrive and no longer in need of caffeine. Gigi sat across from him at the boardroom table, her chicken wrap untouched. August hovered nearby. His pal of seven years sure seemed hung up on their new client despite his “it was just a fling” comment.

They’d spent the last hour and a half going over every detail of Ivy’s life: graduated from Washington State University with a major in art and a minor in graphic design. Traveled Europe for two years before digging roots into the Pacific Northwest. Owned and operated one of the top-rated photography studios in Seattle.

“And this ex, DJ, was it an amicable split?” Rami asked, referring to Gigi’s previous mention of the only guy in Ivy’s adult life.

Gigi cleared her throat. “Yeah, as it turned out, DJ... wasn’t into women. They’re still friends but haven’t seen each other in a few years. He moved to Costa Rica.”

---