He laughs as though he finds me hilarious. Leaning close again, he repositions the newspaper in my hands.
“Sit still, hold the paper, and keep your mouth shut until I say otherwise. Your father owes my boss a fuckuva lot of money. If he gives a shit about you, he’s going to pay up. And if you’re counting on the police bursting in to save the day — don’t. Your father is a smart man. He knows if he calls them, you’ll never get out of this basement alive.”
A shiver moves through me, at that. When he feels it, he smiles.
“Good. You’re scared. You should be.” His voice drops lower. I can feel his breath on my lips, stale and too warm. “The BPD knows better than to interfere with Bunker Hill’s business. Your father is barking up the wrong fucking tree with his plans to gentrify our town without Mac’s go-ahead.”
Who the hell is Mac?
I try to jerk my head away, but he holds fast. I’ll have bruises on my chin tomorrow.
If I’m alive tomorrow…
Cormack leans so close we’re practically kissing.
“You fuck with Mac’s territory, there’s a price. He owned this town long before your daddy ever bribed the city into zoning it for his precious little development. He won’t last a day without Mac’s blessing. And Mac’s blessing don’t come free.”
This is about the Waterfront project?
Is he screwing with me? He must be screwing with me.
“Now hold up the newspaper like a good little girl, so I can take the fucking video. Unless you want to stay here with me.” His tongue slides out of his mouth like a slug, dragging up the length of my cheek and leaving a trail of saliva in its wake.
I try not to gag.
“No?” He chuckles. “Shame. We could have fun, you and me.”
“I’m going to vomit on you,” I snap sweetly through clenched teeth.
He pulls back so quickly it’s clear he believes my threat. A second later, he’s behind the tripod, pushing a button on the iPhone screen to activate the camera.
“Tell him to pay, princess.”
I stare into the camera for a long, suspended slice of time. I can feel my heartbeat pounding behind my eye, which is rapidly swelling. I’d bet Boo’s life it’ll be black as Cormack’s soul by tomorrow morning.
“Dad.” I clear my throat. “Whatever they’re asking for, please…”
Cormack goes tense with anticipation.
“Don’t give them a goddamn thing.”
I smile.
Cormack doesn’t.
When his fist flies out again, this time I see it coming. But as it cracks against my temple, shattering my consciousness, the world disappears before my eyes.
And for a while, I don’t see anything at all.
Chapter Fourteen
I’ve had hundreds of boyfriends.
So what if they’re fictional?
Don’t you dare judge our love.
Phoebe West, on the many merits of book boyfriends.
“Christ, you’re heavy. Dead fucking weight.” A feminine grunt sounds close to my ear, pulling me reluctantly back into the world of the living. “If I’d known you were this heavy, I would’ve brought a fucking sherpa.”
I groan as pain rushes through me.
Holy hell.
Did an elephant sit on my head? A rhino? Some other large-boned creature with a god-complex?
Judging by the excruciating pain needling through my temple, whatever brains I once possessed have been irreparably damaged. I’m having full-on auditory hallucinations, for god’s sake.
“We don’t have a lot of time so if you could snap the fuck out of it, that’d be great. Thanks.”
My hallucination is speaking again and now she’s shaking me.
I kid you not — there are two hands wrapped around my shoulders. I can feel tiny fingertips digging into my flesh.
“Come on, come on, come on.” Another girlish growl erupts. “They’ll be back any minute and then you’re on your own.”