Page 59 of Wilt

“When he did that shit, Rush, he forfeited his rights, and he forfeited the rights of his daughter.”

“But—”

“What?” My voice is low and dangerous; this conversation is over. “We weren’t in the position to do this before. Finding her was the bonus we needed. If he wants her, he’ll have to pay big or go to war. If he does the latter, he’ll lose everything. Between us? Rush, I want him to start something big. I want war. Now, what’s in the motherfucking box?”

Rush pulls out a burner and tosses the phone to me before he lays down the note. “From Finnegan.”

I cock my head. “You didn’t want to lead with that?”

“I did. Then you gave your death grin and I thought I’d check in with you first.”

“He’s going to call in…” I check my watch. “Now.”

The phone rings a minute after it says it will. As far as an opening game, it’s not Finnegan’s best. I pick it up, press answer, and put it on speaker.

“You fucker,” says Finnegan. “Spineless piece of shit.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Derek.” There’s heavy, short breathing from the other end and I know the man is pissed. He’s probably toying with a knife or a gun and picturing me dead. Fine by me. I’ve pictured him dead too many times to count.

“I should kill you.”

“And here I thought we were friends,” I say grandly. “You did send me a phone, after all.”

My cousin looks heavenward, grabs the bottle, refills his glass, then tops up mine.

Finnegan grunts. “What’s it going to take to get my daughter back?”

I lean back in my chair and laugh, picking up the drink and taking a long swallow. “Back? I’ve got it on very good authority you haven’t seen her since Steph ran. As for what my sweet, delicious Rose thinks? You’re a… what did she call you? Oh, yes, a deadbeat.”

At least, I think that’s what she’d said at some point.

“She hasn’t laid eyes on you for years.” I lower my voice, feeling good, on top of the world, because if I close my eyes, I can picture him squirming at my words. “Was shocked you’re still around.”

“Cut the bullshit, Wilder. I want her back.”

I continue, as if he hasn’t spoken. “That’s when we find time to talk. I’m sure you know we’re usually occupied with… other things.”

Something on the other end shatters, and the sharp breaths continue. “You’re dead, Wilder. Fucking dead.”

I snort, ending with a sharp bark of a laugh. “If you dare try anything, you won’t have a daughter anymore. My men are on strict instructions that if anything happens to me, they’ll go to town on her, bring in some brutal, sick fucks to gangbang her, pass her around, use her and abuse her in every single fucking way. I’m gonna guess you’ll be hoping she’s dead.”

I eye Rush, a warning for him to keep his damn mouth shut. He’s a little paler. Rush has seen me kill, seen me give out orders, but I don’t think he’s ever heard me speak like that, with such conviction.

It’s a threat, and a good one at that. I’m not about to do that—I do have some limits—but since Finnegan doesn’t, I’m betting he thinks I’ll actually go through with it.

“I just want her back in one piece. What do you want? I know you want something, Wilder. Your fucking type always does. You’re nothing more than the gutter you came from.”

I laugh again. “Sticks and stones, Derek.”

“Fuck you. What is it you want?”

“Y’know,” I say, slurring some cockiness into my voice, just to really turn the screw. “Maybe I’ll keep her.”

“Keep your filthy, repulsive hands off her.”

“Not what she says to me when she’s moaning and begging for my cock.” I grin, taking another sip of my drink. “Of course, you’ve seen the video, haven’t you?”

Finnegan snarls, and then there’s a pause. “What do you want from me?” he asks, a sullen note sliding into his voice.

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