Page 89 of Taken As Collateral

“Nothing. He told Peter that you were part of some triad, but that’s all I knew.”

Rafe’s face darkens as he looks away for a moment. When he looks back at me, he says grimly, “You’re basically a civilian.”

“A civilian?”

“Someone outside the world of organized crime. An innocent.”

That matters to him?

He takes one of my feet and starts to massage it. “Even low-level street gangs can have a code not to harm civilians. Civilians are zeroes—not worth points. Alessandro knows better than to recruit people like you.”

The massage feels good on my battered feet. I think aloud, “So he chose us because we were ignorant?”

“You were good enough at what you do, but also naïve enough.”

“Naïve enough for what? He came up with that fake Morelli because he couldn’t reach Peter, right?”

“It was an amazing replica. Fakes like that don’t just show up. It had to be pre-planned. That’s why Alessandro needs to be taught a lesson and serve as an example to anyone else who thinks they can try to pull one over on me.”

Shivering, I try not to think of what that lesson entails. “So, if Alessandro planned to give you a counterfeit Morelli all along, then he must have the real one,” I conclude.

“I don’t think he does.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because if he had it, he wouldn’t need you alive.”

“I don’t follow.”

Rafe stares me in the eyes. “Your brother’s at a hospital in the town of Quepos.”

“What?!” I jump off the table. “What happened?”

“He suffered a concussion during a gunfight.”

The blood drains from my face. “A gunfight?! How badly is he hurt? Rafe, I’ve got to see him! Please! I’ll make it up to you. I’ll—I’ll steal another painting for you, I’ll help you steal your family heirlooms back from Matsudo—”

“You still owe me the original Morelli.”

“I’ll get that for you. I just need to see my brother. I’m sure we can figure out what happened to the Morelli.”

Rafe remains impassive.

In a panic, I blurt, “I’ll do all the above and be your sex slave!”

A fire flares in his eyes. I can’t believe I just said what I did, but all I care about is Peter right now.

“You sure you want to offer that?” he asks in an almost menacing tone.

“If it means you won’t kill me or Peter. And I get to see my brother...yes.”

“Alessandro might prefer to die.”

At my grimace, he seems to regret his words. He picks up his shirt and holds it for me to put on while he gets his pants. My pulse races madly. I don’t need a shirt. I need his answer. But I slip into it anyway. He retrieves my underwear and sweatpants. Is it a good sign he’s having me get dressed?

After I put on the sweatpants, he says, “I’ll take you to your brother.”

I throw my arms around him. My body shakes, and I almost sob in relief. I manage to mumble a thank you. He puts an arm around me and cups the back of my head with his other hand.

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