Creed (Unfinished Hero 02)

Pre-emptive strike. We fucked up.

“Right, Sylvie and I will take the girls,” Creed said into the phone, eyes to me.

Oh no.

Fuck no.

That meant Creed and I were on check and security detail and would miss the action.

Again, fuck no.

I stomped to him, reached high, snagged the phone out of his hand and put it to my ear.

“Do not fucking bench me,” I snapped into the phone.

“Sylvie –” Knight started.

“Offensive, Knight and you fucking know it. Finesse is done. These assholes pay. Find Live. Find out where the fuck Amy is and I’m all over that fucking bitch until she talks to me.”

“Babe, you know I trust you but this kind of shit, you got a hot head. Give the girls your touch, keep them safe and –”

“Bullshit. I got more control than you and Rhash put together when shit like this goes down.”

“I know you, remember?” he asked softly. “I can hear it in your voice. Your control has snapped, Sylvie. Rein it in and look after the girls.”

“She told me there was nowhere that didn’t hurt,” I hissed and Knight was silent. “Don’t bench me,” I repeated.

Knight took a beat then, “Don’t make me regret this.”

I lifted my head and jerked my chin up at Creed. He turned to Serena’s door, used the keycard and went through probably to brief Baldy we were leaving.

“You won’t regret it,” I promised Knight. “Get me the details on Amy. Two minutes, Creed and I are on the road.”

I disconnected and Creed came out.

His eyes caught mine.

“Let’s move,” he grunted.

We moved.

*

I stood in the stall in the bathroom, peering out a small opening of the door.

Amy was having a martini lunch with her girls who also lived off a man’s back. We clocked her, Creed told me he’d get her to the bathroom and my objective was to clear it so we could do our business there.

Luckily, no one came in while I waited so when she did, red wine stains down her dress, a pissed off look on her face, I had her.

Seriously, Creed was genius. I didn’t know he managed it, probably bribed a waiter, but not only would red wine down your dress send you straight to the bathroom, it’d also leave a nasty stain. Amy deserved more than red wine stains on her dress but that was where I came in.

“I cannot believe this shit,” she hissed at the mirror, flipping her arms down, eyes to the stain reflected in the mirror.

I walked out of the stall and she turned to me then blinked.

“Wow, Sylvie. Hey,” she greeted.

I glanced through her, walked to the door, rapped on it once and Creed slid in, closed the door and leaned against it.

“What the fuck?” Amy asked and I turned back to her. Her eyes went from Creed to me. “What’s going –?”

I moved and, in a flash, I had her against the wall, my hand to her throat, my body pressed into hers. Her face had paled and her eyes were wide.

“The blowjob you gave Drake Nair pay for that dress or did you get it off Live’s back?” I asked and her eyes got wider. “Oh yeah, bitch, we know. Mark this, Amy, you fucked up, not getting your name on the lease. Live, right now, is packing your shit up. You got the choice, you talk, I let you go and you go home and you’ll find your shit in boxes or you don’t talk, I let you go and you find your shit all over the goddamned grass.”

“I…” her eyes shifted side to side as her hand lifted to try and pull down on mine but I just pushed her deeper into the wall with my hand and body. Her gaze came back to mine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll refresh your memory but I’ll do it by posting pictures of you on your knees, his dick in your mouth side by side with pictures of you taking a roll of bills to every social network I can find and I’ll tag you in it. By the time they take it down, it’ll have gone viral, there will be sites it hits that won’t take it down and thousands of people will see you sucking cock for money. You’ll walk down the street and never know when someone will recognize you. That’s not enough, copies get couriered to your folks. Wonder what Daddy will think of seeing his girl getting her face fucked for cash.”

Her eyes suddenly went hard and she bit out, “Fuck you, Sylvie.”

“Wrong answer,” I whispered, let her go but grabbed her wrist, flipped her around and shoved her face first into the wall, yanking her arm up. She cried out, I got close and snarled in her ear, “Talk.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Do it,” I invited. “See that big guy against the door?”

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