Page 75 of Collateral Claim
Connor lifts his hand as if volunteering. “That’s why I was born. An alternative to the same for less pay. You want me to do it?”
Declan slaps his brother upside his head.
I rest the back of my head on the lawn chair. “Fuuuuuuuckk.”
The conversation diverts elsewhere, but my men aren’t fooled. They know as well as I do that I could’ve shot Scarlett.And if I couldn’t, for whatever reason, I could have ordered my men to do it. The question on their minds is: Why didn’t I?
Chapter 31
Maybe I want to get caught
Scarlett
A black leather duffel bag on the table in the dungeon catches my eye. I peek inside it. Bundles of dollars, pounds, and other currencies. Passports. Weapons. Knives. A criminal go bag. Who is traveling?
The two cots inside the dungeon cell are neatly made as if it’s a military bunker. Stored under one of them is Marquis’s deep green luxury leather suitcase. I can see Philip buying a nice piece like this for his husband. This duffel, though? This one is different.
I sniff. Not Endo’s. I know that man’s cologne. I think this might be Declan’s, and I’m disappointed it’s not Endo’s. I’m so angry with him for manipulating me this morning after eating me out last night that I want to snoop all over this creepy, glorious house. I wish to uncover all the dark corners where Endo hides. I want to know all his dark secrets. I want to claw them out!
And I don’t care if he catches me down here in the dungeons, digging through his nephew’s criminal go bag.
I’m sure I’ll be punished if I get caught.
Maybe I want to get caught.
Maybe then, he’ll really shoot me. Do I want to get shot? No. Heck no. But I’m so furious that I can’t help but snoop around. Knowing they’re all outside and I’m down here in the space where I shouldn’t be gives me perverse pleasure.
If Endo can fake shooting me so my dad gives in to his demands, I can explore the spaces Endo told me not to. Tit for tat, asshole.
I push aside the money and the pistols only to uncover a dagger and several burner phones. Seven phones, to be exact. I glance up the stairs. Nobody. I climb back up and check to make sure everyone is where I left them by the river. I’m alone in the house. The housekeeping staff is light on the weekends, which presents an opportunity.
I rush back into the dungeon and swipe a phone, then sit on the chair.
Ouch. I sat on something. I lean over and pull a large red die from under my bottom. I hold the die in one hand and the phone in the other. Is this some sort of cosmic sign that I’m gambling with my life? Should I roll?
Okay, I’ll roll. But rules first. If I get a six, I’ll make a phone call. If I get a one, I’ll put the phone back where I found it and run upstairs.
I roll.
It’s a four.
Not helpful.
I dial my sister.
I wonder if Charlotte will pick up a call from an unknown number. I find out after a few rings when the call goes tovoicemail. I roll the die to see if I should call back. One is a no. Six is a yes. I get a two.
I dial again.
“Hello,” Beatrice answers.
I should hang up. I really should. I don’t want my niece involved in this mess in any way.
“Hello?” she says again.
Hearing her voice breaks my resolve like a twig. “Hi, Beatrice,” I say. A rock gets stuck in my throat. I miss this little girl so much.
“Hi,” she says.
