Page 18 of Devious Corruption
“I offered. And it’s not like you’re a stranger,” I say in their defense.
“So you’re here for them?”
“No. I’m here for the gun.” Ugh, I’m making such a mess of this. He stands in front of me, all smoothed over and put together, reeking of finery and status.
I’m basically a beggar.
Please don’t kill me or my brothers and give me back their illegal gun so they can go back to doing illegal things.
It’s a horrible plan. But it’s all I have.
“I told you if they wanted it back, they needed to come.”
“They’re busy and need it, so I came.” I raise my chin, rolling my shoulders back.
My insides may be shivering beneath his heated glower, but I would sooner die than let him see it.
“They’re afraid,” he counters, tilting his head. “So they sent their little warrior to save them.”
“It’s not yours.” It’s not much of an argument, considering who and what he is. “I’m tired, and I’d like to go home. Can you stop being an asshole for one minute, and just give it to me?”
My stomach makes a rude entrance by grumbling. Internally, I groan. It’s the second time in as many meetings that this has happened.
His eyes move to my stomach; a ghost of a smile pulls at his lip.
“I’m not keeping you from something, am I? Like dinner?”
I clench my jaw. “If that’s a dig at my weight, you can fuck right off.”
Anger flashes in his eyes at my outburst.
“Two things. First, it wasn’t a dig about anything, and second, you should watch your mouth around me.”
There’s enough sincerity in his voice when he makes the first point, that I’m leaning toward believing him. And there’s definitely an underlying fierceness in the second point that I’m going to take his word for that one, too.
For now.
At least, until I get what I came for.
Then I can tell him to fuck off this way and that way and all the ways.
“I just need the gun; then I’ll go, and you won’t have to be bothered by me or my brothers again.” I manage to keep my voice from raising, but all I want to do is charge at him and punch him in the face.
It’s because of how he’s looking at me. Like he’s not sure if he wants to sweep me up in his arms or if he wants to shake some sense into me. It’s unsettling.
He says nothing but walks past me to a sleek cabinet near the bar to my left. He punches in a code and opens it.
I remain unmoving, maybe I’m actually going to get my way.
When he turns back around, the Glock he stole fromme is in his left hand. He carries it to his desk, gesturing for me to follow him.
“Do you know anything about guns?” He questions me as he places the weapon onto the leather desk blotter.
“I know they kill people,” I say, keeping my attention on him and shoving away the urge to grab the gun and make a run for the door.
No doubt his men outside the door would have me tackled to the ground before I got to the elevator.
“That is their function, yes.” He turns the weapon over and points to the switch he’d shown me at my apartment. “This part of the gun has been modified.”
