Page 46 of Bastard Prince
Now it was my turn to trust her.
“When you get there, wait,” I said, locking eyes with Rocco.
“Sure thing, boss,” he said with a knowing smile. “I’ll bring your lady love when I come. Save some face bashing for me, though, alright?”
“Deal.”
Turned out keeping that promise was harder than I thought it’d be.
I mean, some sons a bitches just had really punchable faces. The one I was currently looking at smirked back at me like he had no care whatsoever for his own worthless life.
“You wanna tell me what you know about an explosion earlier tonight?” I asked, glaring at the moron tied to the chair in front of me who just wouldn’t stop smiling. Benny and Trick were lounging against the wall, off to one side, watching the show.
“Nah, bruh,” he said, shaking his head full of greasy hair. “You wanna tell me why you’re in such a shit mood? You need to get laid, my man.”
The otherguestsin the room with us chuckled at that, and I stepped back to stare at them. There were four of them all together, three guys and a woman who my crew had picked up and brought here so I could try and get some goddamn answers.
Looking closer, I could see that not everyone was finding their experience funny.
The woman, sitting at the end of the row of folding chairs, glared at the wall, arms crossed and leg bouncing. Not restrained in any way, she wore a short, tight dress the color of a good red wine, her blonde hair glossy and her make-up well done. I stood in front of her, forcing her to look at me, which she did with a mixture of nervousness and annoyance.
“You got a name?” I asked.
“Doesn’t everybody?” she snarked back, throwing a glare my way. Great; another woman who wasn’t afraid to tell me off. It seemed like I was surrounded with them these days.
I didn’t respond, just stared at her, my own glare amping up a notch, and she finally blew out a breath.
“My name is Topaz,” she said breezily.
I snorted. “No, it isn’t.”
The woman opened her mouth to reply, but I narrowed my eyes at her.
She swallowed, then finally spoke.
“Willow.”
“Alright, Willow. You got anything you wanna tell me?”
“About what?” she snapped, tossing her hands out to the side. “I don’t even know why I’m here. Your freaking goon just grabbed me off the street, and now I’m here, in a dirty barn or whatever, sitting next to the tweaker brothers, and I have no idea what the hell is going on.”
I turned to the goon in question, Trick, and shot him a questioning look.
“She’s been hanging out with a certainPakhanon the reg, so I thought she’d be a nice source of information, you know? Pillow talk and all that.”
Ah. I turned back to Willow, looking at her again. Her outfit, while revealing, was expensive, and those shoes might not have had red bottoms, but they weren’t bargain brand, either.
“You a hooker, Willow?”
Her mouth fell open, indignation clear all over her face. “I amnota hooker, you ass,” she screeched. “I am a law student at UNLV. I am graduating this spring, and I don’t appreciate your assumptions, thank you very much.”
“It’s not an assumption, toots,” Trick piped up, walking over and standing beside me. “You’re dressed like that,” he gestured to her long bare legs and high heels. “You gave us a fake stripper name, and you have been seen with thePakhanat least twice this week alone.”
“What is a Pacman?” she asked, looking honestly confused.
“Anton is aPakhan,” I said, emphasizing the word.
“You’re not making any sense,” she groaned, bringing her hand up to cover her eyes. “Who is Anton?”
