Page 85 of Delivered to the Devil

“I don’t know or care who Spike is. I’m here for myself. Nobody sent me. I’ve heard that you’re the one who can make things happen, and I need you to get me into Hungary without anyone finding out.”

Ricco’s brow furrows with a mix of surprise and skepticism as it dawns on him that I’m serious. “You do realize that you won’t get that kind of service at normal shipping rates, right?”

“I have money,” I say. “And I need you to find someone for me too.”

“Well, aren’t you a demanding little one?” He chuckles. “That sort of thing easily runs into six figures. Forget about it and have a drink with us instead.” He pulls out the bar stool next to him, smiling widely at me. “My treat.”

I remain rooted to the spot. “I have seventy grand.” My hands are shaking as I reach down and unzip my shoulder bag, showing him that it’s packed with Danish bills. “This is only half.”

Ricco’s laughter breaks off, and his eyes flicker up and down between the money and me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s not enough,” he says, sounding genuinely apologetic.

I reach up for the zipper on my parka and slowly drag it all the way down, revealing my slender hourglass figure and the deep neckline of my dress that showcases my firm, round breasts. My pulse pounds so loudly I can hear it in my ears, and my blood swooshes with a speed that threatens to shoot tremors through my body, but I somehow manage to get the words out with clarity and confidence. “I’m willing to sweeten the deal.”

One corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile as his eyes travel down my body. “You might be able to strike a deal with that,” he says, sliding his hand under my jacket and ontomy hip as if testing the merchandise. I don’t even flinch at his touch. I’m scared, but determination gets the upper hand. And maybe more so, I find no crackling violence hidden in his eyes, and his touch is warm and slow. Almost pleasant.

“Come back to my place, spend the night with me and leave your bag there, and we’ll consider it a down payment,” Ricco says. “Then I’ll hear what you have to say about this person you need to find and see if it’s a job I want to take on. If it’s up my alley, you’ll pay me the rest in advance; if not, then...” He shrugs and lets his eyes roam over my body again. “Then I got something for the trouble.”

“Half the money in advance and the rest when you complete the job.” Even thirty-five grand is a huge sum to lose if he screws me over, but I don’t have much choice.

“A woman who knows how to bargain...” He rubs his bearded chin as he looks me up and down, and my breath catches in my throat as I wait to find out if that’s a good or bad thing. Then his eyes light up in an impressed smile, and he offers me his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

I’m about to grab his hand when he pulls it back. “This will only get you in. You won’t be able to leave the country on the same ticket.”

“I won’t need to leave,” I simply say, and he shrugs as if to say it’s my call.

He takes my hand in a firm shake, and a wave of sadness washes over me as I glance down and see his huge hand wrapped around my slender one. It reminds me of another hand, and tears press behind my eyes, threatening to drag me under. But I steel myself with the reminder that I’m now one step closer to feeling that hand.

***

My night with Ricco is unremarkable. Disappointing, really.

I’m not sure what I was hoping for. That it would remind me of Janos since there are so many other similarities between the two men?

It doesn’t at all.

Ricco is almost sweet and considerate compared to what I had pictured. He doesn’t even comment on the horrific scars on my torso, but simply takes one look before going down on me. He licks my pussy for a while, getting me wet before finally shoving his cock in me. Then he massages my breasts with a touch that’s too gentle for his huge hands as he moves in and out of me at a languid pace.

None of it sparks anything in me. I just lie there, staring at his hands, hoping they’ll clench—inflict pain and make me feel something beyond this hollow emptiness lodged inside me.

Not even when I wake in the middle of the night from him pressing into me or when he wants me to suck his cock before I leave do I feel anything. And when I put my clothes on and leave in the morning, it’s the same. I don’t feel dirty or filthy from having sold myself. Not even relieved that it’s over.

Just nothing.

But as I go back home and time drags on, I start to feel again.

Dread. Ice-cold dread.

After months of being focused, working hard toward a goal, it’s hard to accept that everything is out of my hands. I’ve given Ricco all the information I could think of to help him find Janos, and he accepted the job and the rest of the money. Now all I can do is wait and hope he didn’t scam me and hope that he’ll find Janos if he didn’t.

The waiting drives me crazy, and all the emotions that had drowned in my determination now bubble back to the surface. One moment, I feel strong and driven, the next I feel dirty and useless. I can’t find peace or balance in anything. My nightmares are worse than ever, and I feel like I’m constantly trembling.

Almost a week goes by like this. Then one evening, my phone rings, an unknown number lighting up on the screen. I grab the phone so quickly I almost drop it and swipe the green icon. “Hello.”

“I found your Janos. He’s—”

“Where? Is he alive?” I interrupt with a quivering voice.

“He’s alive,” Ricco confirms. “My contact tells me he’s still working for Gabor, and I have an address. My friend Spike will get you past the border unseen and take you to the city.”

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