Page 66 of Avenging Kelly

“Close call, doc.” It was Montero, the fucker. I truly wished he was the one in the chair with Smokey’s big ass revolver pointed at his knee.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been busy. How’s the prisoner?” I hoped to fuck none of that was code for kill that handsome guy.

“The shot wore off, and he’s a culo. You got more of that juice here so we can knock him out again? He’s driving us nuts.” I wanted to laugh because I was absolutely sure London was doing just that.

I looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. “Gag him. I’m being—,” she started to go off script, so I cut off the call.

I handed Austin the phone and put the knot in her mouth and tied the towel around her head again. “You lost the privilege of doing this the nice way. If they hurt one hair on his head, you better pray for your black soul. Tell me where they are.”

“Fuck you,” she hissed.

* * *

11:00 PM

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Ritchfield complained.

“You shoulda thought about that before you had my boyfriend kidnapped,” I taunted as I ate a cold egg roll next to her. She’d been complaining about being hungry, needing to pee, wanting a drink of water, needing to take medicine. She had to be running out of things to ask for.

God, I wanted to kick my ass for agreeing to leave the gag off her during the eight-fifty-six call if she said the phrase that pays. Smokey had taken his hand cannon with him to go pick up his chef husband from Blue Plate, one of Chef Rafe’s restaurants, and take Parker home after he finished work, so we tried a reward instead of a punishment that time.

It worked at eight-fifty-six, but I wasn’t sure about eleven-oh-eight. “Where’s my boyfriend?” I asked again.

Austin was sitting on the couch with Dom’s head in his lap. He was combing his fingers through his husband’s hair, and Dom had a sweet smile on his face as he rested. Watching them had me wanting London back.

“Let her piss in the chair. I’ve got a pounding headache,” Casper complained as he came through to get more water. He was in her computer room working on her laptop since he wasn’t at the office.

“Please. These chairs are French Rococo from the—”

“I don’t give a fuck if Napoleon stood on it to reach a high shelf. Tell me where my boyfriend is being held, and once I get him out of there, I’ll release you,” I lied. I was planning to put a forty-five in her brainpan, but there was time enough to explore that possibility when I had London in my arms.

“You’ll pay dearly for this,” Ritchfield challenged.

I walked out of the room and went to that bedroom with all the pink. I picked up the doll from the bed and pulled out my butterfly knife, carrying the doll by the leg into the living room.

Ritchfield was struggling against the zip ties holding her to the chair’s armrests as if she thought she could stretch them or something. We’d changed out the zip-cuffs that secured her hands behind her back earlier because she’d complained that she was losing feeling in her fingers. I should have cut the fuckers off.

I put the doll behind my back and walked into the room, glancing at Austin, who picked up the phone from Dom’s chest and looked at it. “Four minutes.”

I stood in front of Ritchfield, whose face was in an ugly scowl. She refused to look at me, so I took the knife and flipped it into her nice hardwood floors about two inches from her right shoe. I held up the doll by the foot, and when she looked up at me, I smirked.

“Casper!”

The hacker came out of the kitchen with a container of cold cashew chicken in one hand and a pair of chopsticks in the other. “Yeah?”

“Tell me where LaDonna Ritchfield is.”

The Gambler let out a gasp that echoed off the wallpaper. Suddenly, Dom jerked and sat up, glancing around wildly. I couldn’t have choreographed it better myself.

“LaDonna Ritchfield is currently at a Swiss boarding school—uh, Leysin, which is about ninety minutes outside of Geneva by car and about two hours from Rome, by air.”

I then turned to Dom, who was holding his husband’s hand. “You’ve got family in Rome, right?” I asked him.

Dom smirked. “Yeah. I have lots of family there. What do you need?” Dom reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his cell phone, holding it as if he was ready to make the call.

“I need your uncle to go to Leysin, Switzerland, and take a girl named LaDonna Ritchfield from her boarding school and bring her here to me,” I bluffed.

“No! She’s not in Leysin anymore,” Ritchfield snapped.

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