Page 27 of Dark OZ

“ It’s been quiet for a while now. Crowe isn’t back yet?”

I swiveled the chair towards the doorway. “No.”

No, he wasn’t. I bit the declaration off like it was a charred piece of grizzle. Crowe’s absence was beginning to eat away at me, no matter how many times I tried to remind myself that I didn’t care what pussy he slammed his dick into—repeatedly…over the fucking intercom.

“He’s been gone for over an hour.”

One hour and twenty-three minutes, but who’s counting. I kept my expression blank. I didn’t care. Dorothy Rosen was not something that I had the luxury of caring about, and I didn’t want to anyway.

“It would seem he’s taking his ownership duties very seriously.”

“Che deficiente,” Nick grumbled out, slamming his hand into the door frame. “Gigi played us, and now all of Oz is going to be out looking for that girl.” He made a sound of disgust. “And Crowe is what, playing house downstairs? For all we know, he was made, and there are teams of hitmen zeroing in on our location right now. But I’m sure to that missing brain of his, now is the perfect time to get his dick wet.”

Now, there was an image, one that I was unfortunately able to add a complete audio track to. Nick was lying to himself. Fuck, I’d been lying to myself since the moment I saw her ogling my car. If Dorothy would give either of us a chance, we’d both drop everything in the middle of a damn gunfight for a taste.

“If there was anyone within a mile of here, we’d know. We didn’t pick a place all the way out here by chance.”

“Perhaps. Have you heard anything from the Server yet?”

“No…” I shifted in my chair, running a hand along the scruff growing on my jaw. It was longer than I ever let it go. In a week’s time, it felt like I had grown a damn mane. Feeling its length didn’t help ease any of my anxiety. Normally, I would have shaved in the morning.

Today, all I could do when I woke up was replay every word and glance Dorothy had given me. I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what Eastin had done that made those angry-looking stripes on her legs. It looked like she’d been whipped. Even now, her screams as Nick tended to her were echoing in my head. It had required a surprising amount of restraint to keep myself closed off in my suite, especially when directly below me, Dorothy’s voice shredded with pain.

“Danny?” My eyes settled on Nick, bringing me back to the moment. He’d moved to sitting on the arm of a large smoking chair in the corner of the room.

“That’s what really has me spooked. My request should have been picked up by now.”

A loud buzzing sound broke the silence of the office, making us both jump. My phone vibrated across the table—in a sequence I didn’t recognize. Not my burner phone I used for business, my personal one. That wasn’t fucking possible. The display showed, “Caller Unknown.”

There was a clatter from downstairs, glass breaking, and a clang of something metallic. My instincts reared. This would be a perfect distraction if someone was planning their move on the compound. Nick, already considering the threat, snatched a gun from where it was stashed beneath the side table and disappeared toward the sound. The hallway shadows swallowed him and his tattoos up.

The phone buzzed again.

A second later, Nick reemerged. “Crowe is making food in the kitchen. Would seem I was right about playing house. He’s got her dressed up in his clothes and everything.”

The phone buzzed a third time.

Reluctantly, I hit the speaker button, accepting the call.

The line was silent for two long seconds before a deep, modulated voice said,“Put the girl on the phone.”

Nick walked silently to the seat opposite me.

“And why would I do that? I’m the one conducting business, not the stray we picked up along the way. She belongs to YBR, now.”

“I’m only going to say this one more time, put the girl on the phone.”

I looked to Nick for an opinion. He made a slow shake of his head, reinforcing my concerns. This could be the Wizard. Finding this phone number would require some decent hacking skills. The phone was encrypted and untraceable, and yet an unknown number rang me up like we were old friends. That certainly pointed to the Wizard. Or another player, with a talented hacker on payroll, was entering the game. Either way, putting Dorothy on the phone would mean admitting to the caller she was with us, and that was a liability.

“That isn’t going to happen. If you want to do business, you can do it with me or not at all.”

“So be it.”

The laptop, whose cursor never stopped blinking at me, flickered to full static. The speaker on every device in the house let out an ear-splitting tone. I immediately shielded my ears. Niccolo Chopper, on the other hand, never flinched. I once saw him stare down a raging doberman like it was nothing more than a puppy with a chew toy. In the end, that dog presented its neck and belly in complete submission. So, of course, even in a full auditory assault, he barely moved. His only movement was to swivel his head to check the points of entry for threats.

The lights in the room flashed—and then everything went dark.

The background hum of appliances and air conditioning silenced. No back-up generator clicking on to flood the building with safety lights. Just darkness and stifling silence.

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