Page 112 of Vicious Arrangement
“Whatever the fuck it takes to make sure my woman’s safe,” I mutter. “I swear, if he’s hurt her, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”
“Listen,” he says, putting a hand on my arm. “You’re not killing anyone. You’ll get your girl, and we’ll go. If the mafia took her, they’ll have already contacted you, like you said. We both know keeping someone like you on good terms works in their best interest.”
“I’m not worried about the mafia,” I say, pushing out the words. “I understand their language. Handshakes, word being bond, contracts, deals, it’s all the fucking same.
“Trust is earned, and you’re right, they know what I am, and being in my good books helps them. And they’re not interestedin me, not really, not beyond the idea of a future deal. I handed them Aaron, and more money than he owes.”
I stop.
“I’m worried it’s Aaron.”
“If it’s him, then he’ll be counting on you giving him the cash he needs in exchange for Aria. He wants out of this mess, and he decided you’re key. He’ll demand money.”
“It’s not even that much he owes them. I’ll pay them six hundred grand. He owes two.”
“Well then, Daddy Warbucks, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I force myself to laugh, even though it feels oily. “You and your references and what was that fucking-A thing?”
“Shut your mouth,” Asher says, going along with it.
We’re singing canaries in a mine.
“And you and Katie, huh?”
“Shut. Up.”
Before I can say anything else, my phone buzzes.
Aaron. “Did you tell the mafia about me?”
“I don’t deal with mafia. What the fuck have you got yourself into and where’s my wife?”
I can hear someone screaming and laughing in the background. “I need three hundred grand by tonight. Or you’ll never see your pretty knocked-up filly again.”
I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. It’s on speaker, and Asher’s biting his tongue. I open my eyes and lie. “I don’t have that kind of cash lying around. I’ll need time, and proof she’s?—”
“Fuck no. She’s alive. For now. Figure out how to get me the money. You’ve two hours.”
He hangs up.
“Fuck!” I slam my fist into the plexiglass partition. I booked one of the company cars that offer a little privacy. “Drive faster, dammit. We need to get to her.”
“Calm down,” Asher says, worry staining his voice. “Anger won’t help her.”
Thank god the hotel appears in the kind of New York sketchy I didn’t think existed anymore.
It’s old and uncared for, neon flashing with ‘by the hour’ or long term rentals available’. Another sign says ‘cash only’.
Two women hang out outside, smoking and wearing heavy make up, fishnets and sky high heels and micro-minis. Their tops over their huge tits are three sizes too small.
“Fuck,” Asher whispers. “Is there a hooker catalog? Because that’s cliché.”
This is where I make a smart-ass comment to let him know I’m okay. Except I’m not. I can’t muster the will for that. Everything I have is focused on keeping it together until I find Aria.
“Hey baby, wanna good time?” One of them asks Asher.
“Got one.” He points at me.
