Page 79 of Blackmail
He snickers at me from his post against the door to the facility’s barber shop. It’s closed now, because the “barber” is actually a retired hairdresser who comes here one morning a week on a volunteer basis. The entire hallway is darkened in the direction leading away from the break room, because it’s mostly non-essential services like the recreational director and the gift shop.
“What are you doing here, Tony?” Guesses fly through my head, everything from he’s got a family member in residence to he’s here to kick the shit out of me, but I’m too surprised to think clearly.
The smile on his face is odd. Fake. Faker than usual. Bet that casual lean with his hands in his pockets is fake as well. But I don’t know what he’d be doing here of all places.
“You know, my father was old money. His father and grandfather got rich buying businesses, squeezing all the money out, and selling them for parts. Really had a knack for it.”
What a thing to be proud of. “What the fuck do I care?”
Tony chuckles. “The big problem was my dad did not have the knack. Zero business sense. If he’d never worked a day in his life and just let my grandfather’s inheritance earn interest, he might still have it today. Instead, he threw cash into every shiny idea like it wouldn’t run out. Except eventually it did.”
Jesus, this guy is unhinged. “Okay, well that’s a sad story, and I’m sorry about your tough lot in life, but I’ve got to get back to work. I’m pretty sure the folks from the behavioral health unit at Belle Argo General are out looking for you as we speak so?—”
What happens next is confusing. One second I’m walking away from Sebastian’s red flag of an ex, and the next a hand has clamped down on my shoulder, near to the spot Sebastian likes to sink his teeth in. But it’s not pleasure I’m feeling, it’s a sharp shooting pain.
I shove my elbow backward. There’s a pained whoosh of air, but Tony only clamps down harder. Brennan’s shown me a few self-defense moves, but it’s not something I’ve practiced in a while. Clearly my reaction time is too slow, because the next thing I know there’s a blade pressing into the skin of my neck. Right over my carotid.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Is this how I die? Bleeding out at the hands of a glittery-suit-wearing snake?
“You tried to take something that belongs to me.”
What the hell?
Nothing but air comes out when I open my mouth.
“I know who you are, Isaiah Jessup.”
How the fuck does he know my name? “What are you talking about?” The question is almost a whisper. He’s pulled me back into the darkened hallway. There’s not a single person, not even an employee taking advantage of the quiet space to make a phone call. And boy is it quiet. Not to mention it’s darker down here than I realized.
“I’ve got connections to big people, you know. Cops. Security guys. I had them investigate you. I know you grew up on a farm near Beacon Hill. I know you ran away because you were a suspect in your own father’s death.” He tsked. “Probably why you changed your hair and your name and everything. I also know you’ve been bending over for my husband and letting him bite and spank you like the sick little whore you are.”
I tense. That doesn’t sound like Tony drawing conclusions because someone told him I’d been in the building. That sounds more like…
“Do you have cameras in his place, you sick fuck?”
I shove his arm. If I can get that knife away from me then I can get away from him.
“Oh, you bet your ass I do. You pulled out all the stops, didn’t you? Letting him fuck you raw. What. A. Slut. And so you know, I have someone watching his office right now too. And your brother. He’s a sweet one, am I right? All wide-eyed and fresh off the farm. Wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that action. So you know, he took a walk to the beach today. Just thought I’d share that information. In case you get any cute ideas.”
I freeze. Risking myself is something I might be willing to do, but not Sebastian and definitely not my brother.
“Leave them the fuck alone. You want me to stop seeing Sebastian? I already did. So go the fuck home and move on with your life.”
“Bold of you to try and give me orders when you’re not bargaining from a position of power. You’re trying to tell me you’re not the reason he cornered me at a charity gala and shoved divorce papers in my face? I don’t believe you.”
I clench my fists but stay silent. I need to get this guy out of here. The sound of footsteps and the squeak of a cart with a faulty wheel comes from nearby. If I can get someone’s attention maybe Simon will run away like the little rodent he is.
But he must sense the direction of my thoughts because the knife presses deeper. “Do it and I’ll leave you bleeding in that supply closet over there for the fucking cleaning crew to find, and then I’ll do the same to your brother and that stupid little three-legged animal you’ve got living with you.”
What the actual fuck? When could he have possibly seen my cat? How did I never know this guy was a level five axe murderer?
He doesn’t get much resistance after that when he drags me down the short hall to one of the fire exits. With a kick of his leg we’re out into the gloomy evening. And what a great time to realize the fire alarm doesn’t work on this door.
There’s a white van idling right in front of us. I know better than to let him shove me in there. I remember seeing a similar van when that supposedly drunk guy disappeared from that party. We all know that guy wasn’t seen or heard from again. But when I think about fighting back, I remember. My brother. Sebastian. Penelope.
What kind of sick fuck threatens a cat?
