Page 56 of Sinful Attraction

“Not unless you fuck up. By which I mean you try to run, you try to yell for help, or you don’t cooperate. If you do any of that, I’ll empty this gun into your ass without thinking twice about it.”

“I didn’t—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” I have no idea how Michael sounds so quiet and calm and yet so menacing at the same time. It scares me and turns me on all at once. And God, does Cleary deserve every bit of the terror he’s feeling.

“What do you want?” Cleary whimpers. It’s clear he’s never had a gun pointed at him before in his entire fucking life. “Just tell me!”

“I want you to come with me.” Michael’s voice stays low and commanding. “I want you to walk out with me calmly like we’re going out for a late-night drink.”

Cleary starts to pant in terror. “No! I can’t let you take me to some secondary location—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think you can or cannot do. See, you just helped a really stupid girl steal $5 million from a powerful mob family. People are reckless enough to do something like that; well, they don’t generally survive very long. And as I have just proven, we can find you anywhere.”

Cleary is blubbering, sobbing like a five-year-old boy with a skinned knee. “I don’t want to die... it wasn’t even my idea! She never told me who she was even stealing from—”

“Oh, bullshit,” Michael grumbles.

“Please... I’ll do anything...”

Michael is quiet for a few moments while Cleary sobs. Then, he speaks calmly again: “If you cooperate, you have a single fucking chance of surviving the night. If you do not, I’ll scapegoat you for everything my sister did, claim she was coerced, and hand you over to my father and his men. Or I’ll just hole you out right here.”

“No... please...” he starts sobbing harder. “Please...”

“Calm down and dry your fucking face. If you cooperate properly, you have nothing to worry about. If you don’t, you die. You already know how to make sure you live. So, pull yourself together and listen.” Icicles are hanging from Michael’s tone.

“How do I know you won’t shoot me the moment you get what you want?” His voice is so high and reedy with terror that I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

“I’m not going to shoot you. What my father will do isn’t up to me. But I’ll tell you this right now: If he has to go chase you down after this, he absolutely will kill you. Cooperating with me is your only chance.”

I sit back in my seat in the van, keeping half an eye on the security feeds and half on the parking lot around me. It’s hard to listen to this. Cleary keeps crying like a little kid in a way that almost embarrasses me, and Michael’s cold, hard voice in my ear does weird things to me. I don’t like feeling horny and scared at the same time.

But I’m both, though right now I’m mostly chilly from worrying that Cleary will snap and screw everything up.

Please,I sort of pray as I keep quiet and let Michael do his thing.Please, let this work. Please, let Cleary just give in so we can resolve this.

Finally, the sobbing and whimpering lets up. Cleary manages to pull himself together. And they leave, barely speaking further.

My lungs feel like I’m breathing helium. I see them exit Cleary’s room together, no gun evident, and both acting calm. I start editing security camera footage to cover Michael’s tracks again. Thedeskpersonretreats to the back for a while. I tell Michael, and he and Cleary step onto the elevator and quickly make their way down and out of the building.

I do the last of the cleanup, and suddenly, there’s no evidence that anyone was with Cleary when he left. By the time I’m getting out to unlock the back of the van for them, the whole job is done.

Cleary glares at me with suspicious rage. “Why’s there a female here?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growl, staring at him in disdain. I go back to sit in the driver’s seat.

“You’re really pushing your fucking luck with me,” Michael tells him in that same murderously cold voice. It makes me shudder even more in person. “That’s my woman and our driver. Get in the van.”

They both get in, and Michael pulls the van doors shut after them. I hear the rattle of chains and Cleary whimpering in terror. “You can’t let her drive; she’s going to kill us!”

“Jesus Christ, dude. Do you see this syringe?” A pause. The sounds of a struggle stop dead. “Yeah. Good. Hold still, or this needle is going in your thigh. If you’re lucky, all it will do is tranquilize you. If you’re not, you’ll stop breathing.”

I hear the click of locks and then the ripping sound of duct tape being pulled off its spool. “Believe me, at this point, this part is for your own safety.”

Cleary’s whimpering gets more muffled. His mouth’s been taped. I sigh with relief.

When Michael gets up front, he buckles in and lets me drive. “Don’t go too easy on these roads,” he suggests, and I scoff with amusement.

“Thanks for shutting him up,” I say, and he chuckles.

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