Page 61 of Burn for Me

The boat swayed gently with the incoming tide, and gulls squeaked over the harbour, swooping down over the distant cafe along the stony harbour side.

For the first time since the night I threw Laura into my arms, I turned on my phone.

Multiple beeps came through from various numbers, all likely to be burners. No one kept a number long in my game.

Two potential jobs, now long past. I didn’t need the money, but had some shitty texts when I’d failed to help them. Unreasonable pricks could maybe just stop killing each other for a few weeks.

There wasn’t a lot else. It’s not like I had family or friends wondering where I was.

Another beep rang out.

Where the fuck is she?

Oh shit. The coroners must finally have figured out Laura wasn’t amongst the charred corpses in the burnt mansion. That the old man I’d killed didn’t pass for a young woman on further inspection.

Ignoring him was an option. But no response would likely make him more suspicious.

Damn it.

Who?

Laura. The seemingly undead bitch from your last job for me.

My fingers whitened around my phone. I tried to infuse my veins with calm, I needed to feign ignorance. If he knew I had Laura, he’d kill us both. Or he’d try, at least.

I just torched the place. No idea what you’re talking about.

The three little dots danced on and off repeatedly.

Please buy it.

Listen to me, you dumb fucking animal. The police are looking for her, which means they are looking at me. If I find you’ve got her I’ll make you sit and watch while every single one of my men takes his turn with her. When they’ve fucked her to death, they’ll start on you. Last chance to let me know anything you know. If I find you lying, I’ll track you down and make you wish you’d never been fucking born. So I’ll ask you this once. WHERE IS MY FUCKING BITCH?

My jaw clenched. My possessive side rearing up like a cornered animal.

I sent one final text, before turning the phone off, smashing it beneath my boot, and kicking it into the ocean.

Shewas never yours.

No one knows who I am. He can’t find her.

I tried to assure myself the whole time I steered the boat away from shore. I needed distance until I could think it through.

I didn’t know much about Massimo, except he was ruthless. An awful lot of truly terrible people shuddered at the mention of his name.

Eventually we pulled up in a sheltered bay, one long forgotten but once used by Scottish bootleggers and other unsavoury sorts.

My sort.

Laura joined me, looking delicious in a short pink floral dress and an oversized white cardigan. She must have showered and preened, her lips looking extra juicy with a bright coating of shining rose.

She carried a tray in her hand, and twirled carefully as she neared me.

‘Do you like it?’ She asked.

I nodded. Frustration whipped through me. Laura deserved more than nods. She deserved a man who could tell her she was the most beautiful woman in the world. That I’d give my right fucking arm just for one of her smiles.

She sat beside me on the bench, her skirt barely reaching her thighs.

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