Page 275 of The Reluctant Hero

I’m not surprised when he lurches forward and backhands me. He draws his arm back far enough that the move is obviously coming. The shock is when my wrists pop apart with the movement of my head after he makes contact. He hit me hard enough my eyes are rolling as my body lists to the side. I keep my shaking arms as close together as I can, but it’s a struggle.

The pain takes a second to register. When it does, I start cursing as loud as I can. It isn’t meant to be a distraction, though it works. It just hurts bad enough that my first reaction is to cuss like I ran into a door jamb or stubbed my toe—perfectly natural in the worst situation. I weave my fingers together with the saw jabbing my palm so I can keep up the act.

“I’ll ask you again,” Loudmouth starts with a yell. I can barely hear him over my cursing.

“If I had millions, I’d be on a yacht with my middle fingers up, dipshit,” I spit out with a scowl.

That was dumb. I get seasick. My runaway mouth strikes again.

This time, it’s a punch across my cheek. Right over the bruise that’s already there. I feel my skin split and blood run down to my jaw. My vision darkens before fading to a light gray around the edges. Blood wells in my mouth as my body sags to the side. I bit my tongue. I’m ready to fall out of my seat when one of them props me up on the other side.

“Jesus, man, slow down, or we won’t get anything out of her.” Brass is starting to sound uneasy.

“Yeah,” I mutter in a garbled tone. “Slow down.”

Loudmouth ignores us. “Where is the money?”

I take a deep breath as I wobble in my chair. He leans forward in anticipation. He’s going to be very disappointed.

“I used it to find your missing dad. He’s sorry he forgot all your birthdays.”

He tries to punch me in the gut. With the way I’m sagging forward, he gets me right in the tit instead.

“Motherfucker!” I howl in agony. I struggle with the bindings around my ankles. My hands are clenched so hard together that the saw makes a cut. The pain in my boob overshadows it.

When I get my feet under me, this asshole is dead. My tit?Really?God, it’s throbbing with pain.

“You miserable fuck!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I’m a little proud of the curse words that follow after. I don’t let up on them, no matter how many times he slaps me. Looks like the punch was a heated mistake.

“Shut up!” Brass yells. His fist rears back so he can punch me in the face. All I can see are the metal knuckles aimed at my eye.

Everything freezes when the door swings open.

“Here we are,” a smooth voice says calmly.

The three assholes back up as another man comes in. My chest caves with doom. This guy is going to be a problem.

His black clothes are more uniform than the others. He walks with a steady gait that screams,I know what I’m doing here. Jakob swings loosely from one hand, the other holding up a phone,myphone, as if he’s on a video call.

This is a professional, I can already tell. His outfit is identical to Shade’s.

I’m screwed.

I watch Jakob swing back and forth as if I’m getting hypnotized, my anger waning as the pressure in my chest increases. I want that baton in my hands so badly right now.

“You look like you’ve been having fun,” he eyes me with a bland smile.

Well, the break from my anger didn’t last long, thank God.

I work my tongue around to gather up the blood near my teeth and spit it out on the floor with a smile.

“Any luck on finding the money?” The new guy asks his cohorts.

“She says she doesn’t know,” Killmefirst mutters. They can see who’s on the other side of whatever call this is. Whoever they’re looking at quells all of their go-to attitude quickly.

“Should I believe her, Mr. Matthias?”

Uh oh. Which Matthias is he talking to?

---