Page 145 of Deserter

“It’s gonna be okay, Celia.” I relaxed as his gun came up and let him lead me back into the bedroom.

Jamie would’ve had a bullet in the man’s head before ever hitting the carpet, but Hawk held back, eyeing the intruder as if sizing him up.

“Shoot him,” I hissed.

“Nah,” he stated with a grin before turning the gun on me. “I’d rather do you. Get on your knees.”

My brain, which had been focused on card strategy up until a few hours ago, was now running wild with escape plans. Even if I made it out, there was no way I’d be able to get to the girls before they did.

His hand came up and locked around the back of my neck and he growled, “On. Your. Knees. Before I put a bullet in your head. You want your girls seeing you like that?”

My chin quivered as I slowly lowered myself to the carpet. “Why?”

He ignored my question and looked back to the man in the chair. “She’s all yours, Cobra.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Celia: 2000

Cobra continued puffing on his cigar, a small grin playing at his lips. It reminded me of the girls’ expressions when Wolverine brought them gifts.

I pushed myself up with my hands only to have a gun shoved in my face. A gun in the hands of a man I’d trusted, not only with my life, but my daughters’ as well.

“Why?” I asked again through stiff lips. “Why are you doing this?”

There was a low thud against the side of the tub in the bathroom followed by a curse before the next man appeared in the doorway. It was the tattooed man with the lip ring from the game.

“Hey, ma,” he grinned. “You’re awake.”

My nostrils flared. “You’re here for the money? Take it.” When no one made any attempt to move, I reached up and grabbed the bag from the foot of the bed and tossed it in front of them, growling, “Take it!”

“We’re not here for the money, sweetheart,” Cobra said from the chair. “We’re here for Grey. Where is he?”

Jamie?

“Grey’s dead—” Lip Ring’s fist connected with my nose and I fell against the side of the bed; the force sending pain radiating all the way down into my teeth.

“He ain’t dead, Celia. Just tell them what they need to know,” Hawk pleaded, no longer sounding like the man who’d held a gun to my head.

He was scared of them.

Blood began to stream from both nostrils and down the back of my throat, gagging me. “I don’t know.”

This time, I expected the hit and curled in on myself before Lip Ring’s boot connected with my thigh. Tears ran down my cheeks, but instead of shrinking back, I gripped the comforter and pulled myself up to spit blood at him.

“Touch me again and see if I tell you anything.” I turned my glare to Cobra. “Is this how you run things? Letting your henchmen get their hands dirty while you do nothing?”

Lip Ring snarled, “You’re gonna pay for that one, bitch.”

Cobra’s tongue slipped free of his mouth and ran along his bottom lip as he studied me. He held up a finger and Lip Ring froze. “Now, Manny, you heard the woman. We’re strangers… why should she tell us anything? Am I right?”

My nostrils flared, but I refused to answer.

“Of course not,” he continued, clearly not needing my response. “You think this is about a blackjack game, but the game was just a piece of the puzzle, sweetheart. We’re taking the money. It’ll give us a comfortable head start; but first, we’re gonna send a message to your old man, yeah?”

I shook my head, unable to stop myself from violently shaking. “N-no… h-he’s d-d-dead.”

Manny chuckled. “Nah. Ese cabrón is still alive and kickin’.”

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