Page 16 of Vicious Prince (Violent Kingdom)

“Rosie,” I say sweetly, kicking back on my couch. “I thought you wanted to stay?”

She smiles. “I need to get home, freshen up. Call you later?”

I don’t even need to look in my bathroom to know that she found my stash and stole it. You know why? Because Rosaline would never, ever leave her heroin in my jeans pocket, forgotten, let alone a small mountain of white powder on my coffee table. She’s the kind of girl who would scoop it up and store it in her cheeks to get it past the front door.

Speaking of.

There’s a knock at the front door.

“Pizza delivery!” the voice at the door calls.

“Can you let the pizza guy in on the way out?”

Rosaline grins, her pupils the size of dinner plates. “Sure thing, babe,” she coos, tucking her suspiciously full handbag under her arm and making a beeline for the front door.

She opens the door, her free hand out to grab the pizza, when she freezes. “Merc?” she says, her hand stopped in mid-air. I’m on my feet at the same time, moving across the large, open space to the open door.

“Pizza!” my best friend says jovially, throwing two boxes of cheesy crust pizza on the floor beside Rosaline. “You want to pay with cash, or with the shit you just stole?”

Rosaline tries to scurry around Merc, with no success. Merc crosses his arms over his broad chest, smiling, revealing two rows of perfect white teeth that look even brighter against his Hispanic coloring. Rosaline turns suddenly, probably headed for an alternative exit, but instead barreling right into my open arms. I get her in a bear hug, pinning her arms at her sides as Merc snatches her purse from her hand. He pulls out a metal cigarette box, a skull stamped on the front, and snaps it open to reveal rows of bright red heart-shaped pills.

My pills.

Rosaline starts to panic. “I can explain,” she says, trying to pull away from me. I respond by tightening my hold on her, picking her up off her feet and heading back to the bathroom.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I’m chewing on cheesy crust pepperoni pizza, and Rosaline is tied to one of my kitchen chairs, sitting in the middle of my living room, furious as she tries to yell at me past the piece of tape over her mouth.

It’s not the first time I’ve tied a half-naked girl to a chair and threatened her life, and I very much doubt it’ll be the last. Chicks, man. Sometimes the only way to get them to tell the truth is to show them the sharp end of a knife, make them cry a little. Merc finishes his slice before me, dusting his hands on his jeans as he retrieves a switchblade from his pocket and opens it with a metallicsnicksound.

“Hey Rosie, you ready to talk?” Merc asks.

I hold up a slice of pizza. “You tell me who you’re stealing for, I’ll even share my pizza with you.”

If this were an episode of Supernatural, her eyes would be solid black right now, little demon she is. Fortunately, this is reality, and Rosaline isn’t a demon — just a very fucking shady girl, one I should have known would bring me a whole bunch of trouble that I don’t need.

Merc unceremoniously rips the tape from her mouth, and probably takes half of the skin on her face along with it. Her eyes pop a little from the pain, as she gasps in a breath. “Motherfucker,” she spits, pulling at her bindings. “I’m going to make sure you both get what’s coming to you for this.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Rosaline, you tried to steal my entire stash of pills. Pills that are very special to me. The least you can do is tell me who you’re stealing it for.”

Her eyes constantly shift between Merc and I, probably trying to figure out which one of us she can sweet talk the fastest. She hones in on Merc, licking her lips as she parts her thighs, her very short skirt riding up as she flashes her panty-less crotch before she crosses her legs. Merc sits on the sofa beside me, leaning forward, a frown etched into his forehead as he points to Rosaline with the switchblade.

"Did you just try to Basic Instinct me, Rosaline?” Merc asks. “Seriously? Put it away. Tell me who sent you to steal Rome’s pills.”

Rosaline starts hurling abuse at both of us, unintelligible nonsense peppered with curse words and high-pitched screaming. Merc rolls his eyes, slapping the tape back on her mouth.

We both stand over her.

“What do we do now?” Merc asks.

I shrug. “Torture her until she tells us who she’s working for.”

Chapter Four

AVERY

An hour to go.

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