Page 24 of Bone's Destiny

I glanced at Destiny when I heard the handcuff jingle. She didn’t fully wake, but it probably wouldn’t be long now.

Bone: Thanks

I sent my reply to Stitch, then slipped my phone into the inside pocket of my cut, going to the metal chair. Steeling myself, I sat, ready for all the drama that was sure to come.

Nothing more than a little movement came half an hour later. Her hair, the color of spun gold, covered her not-so-innocent face. When I saw her at the bar, she looked nothing like the girl in the photo. Thick black eyeliner and false eyelashes had covered her pretty baby blues. Her hair was teased out like chicks had worn it in the eighties. When she’d said she was going upstairs with someone, it had all made sense. She’d fixed herself up for her client. I’d nearly lost my shit imagining her on her knees with a dirty bastard’s cock in her mouth. The only reason my mind had gone to that scene was because of the shirt she had on. The opened big mouth would’ve made any man think the same. We were all dirty-minded.

I was growing impatient, waiting for the chaos to ensue.

Why did she have to be so beautiful?

Stop it. She’s trouble.

Probably.

“Who are you?”

I heard her voice, but she refrained from moving or looking at me.

“Any idea why you’re here?”

“No. Why?”

“Roland has a lot of debt to pay,” I told her flatly, like this was only business.

“Oh. Are you going to kill me?”

“You’re worth more alive.”

She gasped and trembled.

Why wasn’t she crying or screaming for help? Did she know the kind of things her old man had been into? Maybe Cobra was right, and she could help us.

“How did you get me?” She lowered the blanket, revealing her eyes. She blinked rapidly, probably recognizing me. “You. I remember you. You’re the bartender.”

I stood and stepped closer to her so she could see me clearly. “Yes. But I’m not really a bartender.”

“Then what are you?”

“That’s not your concern.” I went around toward a small table beside the mattress. “If you need water, it’s right there.” I pointed. “Along with some protein bars. The bucket is to pee in.”

“But I’m chained to the wall.”

“There’s enough give for you to reach what you need.” If I didn’t get out of there quickly, I might release her. Her defeated expression put an ache in my chest.

“Okay.”

I grabbed the metal chair and I went to the door, keeping my back toward her. “I’ll be back.”

“When?”

“Later.”

“Okay.”

I locked the door and leaned against it. What the fuck was going on? Why didn’t she struggle, curse me and beg to be released? She didn’t even shed a tear.

My resistance was low due to exhaustion. After I got some sleep, I could deal with her better. Stay firm and detached.

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