Page 63 of Bound to a Monster

“You’re taking a loss at the price you’re offering me. No, don’t try to pretend like you’re not, I know this business too well. Your father must really need the cash.” Frank frowns a little and shakes his head. “I don’t want to take advantage.”

“If you don’t, someone else will, and they’ll try to lowball us,” Alex says, nodding at me. “Lev’s giving you a good number. It’s a loss, but it’s not a terrible one. Think of it like cashing us out.”

“All this after the shop burned down,” Frank murmurs, but it’s clear where his head’s at. He’s already picking through the box again and doing the math. A guy like him can figure out a ballpark estimate for this many pieces in ten seconds flat and be pretty damn close.

“We’ll survive. Come on, Frank. You’re doing us a favor.”

“And making a good profit in the meantime.” He frowns at me and holds out a hand, but pulls it away before we can shake. “And this is straight from your father?”

“He gave me that box himself.”

I catch his hand and squeeze it. After that, it’s a matter of moving money and writing up receipts.

We’re back on the street a half hour later with the cash my father wants. Alex seems perplexed though as we walk shoulder to shoulder toward Market Street. The car’s parked nearby, but it’s a nice day.

“Why’d you just do that?” he asks softly.

“Dad told me to. You know why.”

“But whyhim? Why Frank?”

I smile to myself and reach into my pocket. There’s one last watch sitting all alone, naked, outside of a bag. I pull it out and run my thumb over the crystal before tossing it to Alex.

He snatches it from the air, glaring at me. Most sane people don’t toss around ten-thousand-dollar pieces.

“Get that authenticated,” I tell him. “Wait a few days though. At least a week, actually. When you get the results, send them to Frank.”

Alex slows down. People hustle past, the constant flow of life in the city. Cars roll down the street and it smells like exhaust.

“You sold him fakes?”

“I did what my father asked.” I lean against a stoop for a fortune teller’s shop. How these people stay in business, I can’t even imagine. “You take issue with that?”

“Frank’s going to lose his mind. Shit, in a week, he’ll have moved half those watches already.” Alex stares at me, his frown deepening. “But you knew that already.”

“Yeah, I knew it.”

“This is pushing things,” he says and moves closer. “You know what’ll happen when Frank finds out?”

I’m extremely aware. I just don’t care.

“One week,” I tell him and start walking again, hands shoved into my pocket. “Then let it blow up.”

Alex follows after me. He knows how bad this is going to be. And I don’t care anymore.

Seeing Carmie fencing last night woke something up in me. She was pure, primal aggression. She was grace and poise and skill.

She was speed and death and sex.

God, she wasgorgeous.

And now I understand. Speed wins wars. If I’m going to take my father down, he has to be dead before he even knows I’m attacking.

Which means one big move. A huge gamble.

This could backfire.

But if it doesn’t?

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