Page 89 of Marked

“I don’t pay you to come up with fucking excuses.” Jimmy’s voice carries over to us. I stand in front of Harley, petting her hair. Having to be this close to him is dangerous for her. She might tighten up beneath the fear and memories and get herself hurt.

Just being in this room alone with him might be causing her more trauma.

I check my watch.

“Find them,” Jimmy snaps. “It’s your job to be sure none of this touches me. Calling me with your little complaints isn’t doing your job. Just fucking handle, it, Laurens or you’ll be the one people can’t find.” He ends the call and throws his head back, inhaling as deeply as his chest will allow.

Harley moves, and I put my hand on the top of her head to keep her on her knees. Not yet.

She’ll get her turn at him, but not just yet.

Now that he’s off the phone, we can get started.

Jimmy turns around with a twisted smile on his face.

“I swear to god, women are only good for fucking and birthing heirs.” He takes another breath, then claps his hands together. “I guess they’re good for some fun too. Why don’t you sit over there? I think I’ll start where you left off.”

His hands are already on his belt as he stalks toward Harley.

I sink into the chair, put my bag down on the floor at my feet, and let it fall open.

By the time he gets to her, his belt swings from his hand and his eyes are determined.

A shiver runs through her body.

My girl is afraid.

But she’s being so fucking good, still.

I grab the syringe I made before we left the condo and uncap it.

“What’s your name?” he demands.

She tilts her chin up enough to slide her gaze toward me. I have the syringe ready. All I have to do is get behind him before he notices I’ve moved.

“Harley,” she says, pushing her head back and looking him directly in the eyes.

He laughs. “I guess you’re not as trained as he says. That’s fine. I love beating submission into a woman.” He makes a fist, like he’s going to strike her, but I strike first.

I lunge at him, sinking the syringe into his shoulder.

He howls and jumps away, but it’s too late. Enough of the drug went in; he’s gonna be on the ground before he can get away from us.

“What the fuck was that?” He yanks out the needle and inspects it like he can magically see what’s running through his veins right now.

“Just a paralyzing agent mixed with a sedative.” Harley climbs up to her feet and steps toward him as he wobbles.

“What? Why…why would you….” he shakes his head. The fog is rolling in.

“Marco!” he yells as he falls to his knees.

Harley grabs his hair and yanks his head back.

His eyes are already glassed over.

“Marco can’t save you. No one can save you.” She throws her fist into his face as hard as she can. Blood splatters out of his nose. Again he howls.

There’s beeping on the other side of the door.

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