Page 251 of Remy

There’s a grate of a zipper, then the unmistakable sound of liquid splatter as he takes a piss.

I shoot a glare over my shoulder. “Seriously?”

“Nature calls.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, princess, your brother is keeping watch.”

I drag my attention back to Hugo’s confused expression. “I’m afraid that nosedive of my mental state just gained some traction. If I were you, I’d hurry up and tell me what you said to her.”

He glances from me to Bishop and back again. “Come on, man. I’m not scared of you. There’s a room full of people on the other side of that door. One shout from me, and they’ll come running.”

I fake surprise, all raised brows and wide eyes. “Oh, shit. I should’ve thought of that. Please don’t shout, Hugo. I wouldn’t want to get caught.”

“Don’t listen to him, champ.” Bishop’s personal rendition of a waterfall trickles to a stop, followed by another grate of a zipper. “I’d be screaming for my life if I were you.”

Hugo scoffs.

“Do it.” Bishop approaches to stop beside me, giving Hugo a friendly pat on the cheek, and the guy winces away from his unwashed hands. “Scream like a little bitch while you still can.” He maneuvers around me, making his way to the basins. “I love when they mistakenly have faith that the greater good will save them.”

“I love when they don’t waste my time.” I add pressure to the blade at his abdomen, feeling the resistance of flesh against steel.

Hugo raises his chin and opens his mouth. “Hel?—”

I cut off his shout with a left hook to the gut.

He doubles over, gasping for breath.

“I would’ve aimed for the throat,” Bishop drawls. “But you do you, tiger.”

I clench my teeth. “Can you fuck right off?”

“Throw a guy a bone.” He cocks his hip against the basin, settling in. “This is the most action I’ve seen in months.”

“Fuck you,” Hugo rasps. “You’ve got no idea what I know.”

I turn back to him. “Exactly, asshole. That’s why you’re in this predicament.”

His upper lip curls as he straightens, breaths wheezing from his lips. “I fucking own you, Costa. You and your little hypocritical whore.”

“Oh, shit.” Bishop snickers. “I do believe he just dug his own grave.”

“I agree,” I snarl.

“You can’t kill me,” Hugo brags. “I know too much. I’ve got an entire phone full of evidence?—”

I launch a jab at his throat, feeling the crack of cartilage, gaining a hit of euphoria as his mouth widens in search of breath that can’t be claimed. “I can and will kill you, motherfucker.”

“See?” Bishop drawls. “I told you the throat was a better option.”

I rummage through Hugo’s pockets in search of his cell while he desperately claws at his throat. He doesn’t protest when I retrieve it from the front of his pants, the struggle for breath consuming his attention.

“Why don’t we trade?” Bishop pulls a filled syringe from the inside of his suit jacket, the needle covered with a bright orange protector. “I can handle his so-called evidence while you give him this.”

I hold the cell up to Hugo’s face until the screen unlocks. “What’s in it?”

“Enough sedative to take down an elephant.”

I raise my brows, impressed. “And you just happen to have this on you?” I hand the phone to Bishop and take the syringe, removing the plastic protector with my teeth.

“At all times. You never know when you’ll get the opportunity to surprise a spaced prick who dares to play fuck-around-and-find-out.”

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