Page 112 of Mob Princess

“Of course it did. Why do you think I’m packing?”

She jerks her hand in the bedroom’s direction. I’m not taking my eyes off her long enough to check. Her phone rings in her pocket.

“Pull it out.”

She eases it, not trusting me. Smart. I wouldn’t trust me either.

“Answer it.”

The area code is Boston.

“Hello.”

“Allô.” Fucking shit French accent.

“What do you want?”

“Did you get your money?” It’s supposed to be just enough to flavor his English like my French accent sometimes slips into my English one. Rarely is it the other way around. I grew up speaking both from the moment I could talk. I would interchange them.

“Yeah. Do you want anything else?”

“I hear you like it rough.”

“You want to fuck?”

“If you have time.” I know that smug laugh. He’s only half teasing.

“He—”

I stick the barrel between her lips. It was obvious she was about to say help. I shake my head. I’d already let go of her throat because the angle was awkward, but I wrap my hand around it again.

“Lucy?”

The accent slips a little. I pull the gun from her mouth, my glare warning her.

“Yeah.”

“What was that? Who are you with?”

I put the gun to her throat. I keep picking different spots, so she doesn’t know for sure whether I will or won’t. If I keep it in one place too long, she’ll figure if I was going to shoot her, I would have already. She’d be wrong. But it would give her a false sense of security, then she might do something that fucks up me learning what the fuck is going on.

“No one. I almost dropped the phone. I’m putting away dishes.”

She lies with ease. Not a surprise. If she hadn’t gotten this call, I wouldn’t have entirely believed her about the accent. I would have had to check. Now I don’t have to.

“Is Sean all right?” She watches me.

“Maybe for another hour or two. My guy’s going to be sure he winds up where he belongs.”

I knew he wasn’t working alone. Fuck nut can’t even do this without needing someone to hold his hand.

“You got someone else involved?” Lucy’s fear just amped up. Who does she think it was?

“Just the guy you recommended. He was happy to do it. If he’s caught, he knows I’ll kill his family if he tells the truth. He’ll pin all of this on the?—”

“Good for you. I can’t believe you convinced him.” Lucy cuts him off.

Who’s she protecting? She’s the one who brought the guy with the English accent into this. Not the other way around. Or is there a third person?

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