“He wasn’t lying.” Jay steps between me and the gun. “He was playing. Just playing. He thought you’d laugh.”
“Does it look like I’m laughing?” He swings his long-barreled VP9 around dangerously and makes every man in his office twitch. “Do I look like the kinda guy who wants to be told a fuckin’ joke? No!” His eyes lock with mine. “You have any more jokes you wanna tell, Bishop?”
“No.” Jay steps forward and stops a foot in front of the gun. “We’re here to work. What do you need us to do? What’s on the schedule?”
Eyes narrowed, Abel’s chest heaves. “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
“He won’t do it again.”
“Don’t joke. I’m not a fuckin’ clown. I don’t laugh.”
Shaking his head, Jay’s hands come up in surrender – and distraction. “He won’t do it again. Tell us what to do, boss.”
He watches Jay for almost a full minute, and each second that passes lights my blood on fire. A swinging gun isn’t nearly as terrifying as suspicious eyes.
Finally nodding, Abel turns to Flynn. “Bring the girls in. We’re having a party tonight.”
“Party?” I step forward and stand shoulder to shoulder with one of two people on this planet that would step in front of a gun for me. I throw a glance out the window that looks over the club. “What girls? What are we celebrating?”
“We’re celebrating the fact I didn’t put a bullet in your head, Bishop. Now shut the fuck up.”
Flynn opens the office door and allows a group of girls to walk through. My heart gallops when platinum blonde hair catches my eye, but when she steps in and lifts her eyes, the roaring in my head slows.
Wrong girl. Not Jess.
Green eyes instead of blue.
Giant boobs instead of the perfect handful Jess has.
“We have product to test tonight. So instead of working, you have my blessing to chill the fuck out.” Abel’s eyes meet mine. “You worked extra for me last night, so tonight, you get a little blow, a little girl, and you get to work it out of your system.”
A little girl.
He ain’t kidding.
I glance toward the lineup of women and mentally work out their ages.
They’re young. All of them, even the one with tits. Late teens, early twenties, six girls in total. Most of them smile. They’re eager to start the party.
But two stand on the end, sisters, and are fucking terrified. “I’ll take them.” My eyes come back to Abel. “In the room on the end.”
“Alright!” He claps with approval. “I shoulda known you’d pick two of them. You like ‘em young.” He looks to the older one. “What’s your name, girl?”
When she refuses to look up, refuses to speak, Abel’s nod conjures six guns that point at her head.
“Name. Now!”
She pulls her little sister against her side, clamps her trembling lips shut, and shakes her head.
Look up. Look up. Answer him!
When she says nothing, Flynn scoffs and steps forward.
“Lisa!” the younger one screams. “Her name’s Lisa!”
“Too slow.” My ears turn tinny when Flynn’s Luger booms and splits Lisa’s head open.
Dead weight, she drops to the floor and drags her sister with her. “No!” The younger girl pulls her sister against her chest. “No! Oh my God, no! Lis. Wake up!”