“You broke my fuckin’ nose, douche bag.” I cupped my hands to my face. That was a bad idea. No touching the broken nose. Warm blood started to pour down my face, into my mouth, off my chin. Not a slow trickle, a nice healthy faucet of sticky, metallic blood. For good measure, I spit a stream of it onto his pretty cream suit.
“Do you really want me to hit you again?” he asked like I was really trying his patience.
“I’d rather you didn’t.” I decided to just let the blood pour. Not much I could do about it.
“Then tell me where the money is.”
“I don’t know.”
Vito did it again. Blood sprayed in an arc on the sand. It was sort of merciful though. He hit right below my eye instead of on my broken nose. If I lived, my face was going to be all kinds of purple. I shook my head to clear it, which only made me want to heave. Then I punched him again. After that, the underlings didn’t let me go. It was kind of good after a while because Vito kept asking where Ryan and the money were and I kept telling him I didn’t know and he kept hitting me, so if it weren’t for them holding me up, I would have fallen. Not just fallen, but curled up and cried. I didn’t tell him shit though.
The pain became a sluggish pound through my head. I wasn’t thinking so clear. The thugs holding me up got lazy and I dropped to my knees. They still held my arms, and one was kind enough to grip under my chin so Vito could hit my face directly. None of this pansy shit. Vito’s ring opened a gash on my cheek so fresh blood ran from my face to the dirt.
The sun had fallen to just below the horizon by the time they dropped me to the ground on my back. Blood dripped down my throat and from my face into my ears. Vito delivered one swift kick to my ribs that sent a different, sharper sting through my chest and stomach. I curled up on my side and covered my head. The heated dirt grated against my face, infiltrating the cut in my cheek. It made me know I was still alive. He just kept fucking kicking. I wasn’t even answering him anymore. There were no more creative ways to say I don’t know.
“Pick her up again,” Vito said.
His men roughly grabbed my arms and heaved until I wasn’t quite standing, just hanging there with my feet dragging on the ground. Vito stepped closer and my forehead pressed into the soft coolness of his jacket. His fingers brushed over the back of my head and made me want to sleep.
“Boss?” one of the guys asked. Vito silenced him with a raised hand.
“Vivian, sweetheart.” Vito knelt in front of me. He lifted my chin so I was looking in his eyes. “You think you’re hurting right now?” I nodded pathetically. “You don’t even know what pain is yet.”
“Fuck you.” Droplets of blood spewed from my mouth onto his cheek.
“Listen to me, kid. This is Tommy.”
One of the underlings stepped away from his buddies into my sightline. Tommy was a boy, a child. He could have been fifteen or he could have been thirty with a face like that, like it was sculpted from creamy wax. Every feature was too perfect and unnatural for reality. The fading sunset cast him in shadow, so the only true details I could see were the slice of his cheekbones and his slender, pretty fingers.
“Tommy has a way with women,” Vito continued.
Tommy began to stroke something in his hands. It looked like a knife, but that wasn’t right. Was it?
“Do you understand me? Tommy can redefine pain for you.”
A shuddering started between my shoulder blades and spread through my arms, chest, legs. It was a burning ice, the sudden knowledge that no matter how much my friends, girlfriends, parents treated me like one of the guys, I wasn’t. I was a girl, and they could inflict things upon me I’d never even fathomed. The beating Vito had given me would heal; I knew that much. But what he was saying about Tommy, I wasn’t sure I’d survive that.
“I like you, Cooper.” He used my real name. That made me listen. “When Tommy’s done with you, I will consider being merciful. Maybe I’ll put a bullet between those pretty eyes of yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? We’ll bury you here. Understand?” I could only nod my head. “But we need the information.” Vito got to his feet. The throbbing in my head increased tenfold when I lifted my head to see his face, so I just stared at the ground. “If you don’t give it to us, we’ll go for Reese.” Hot tears began to course down my cheeks melting the congealed blood and pooling in the dirt. “And what we did to you, what we’ll do still? Oh, Cooper. It will be so much worse for her.” I forced myself to look at him. “I won’t touch her,” Vito promised. “I’ll just let Tommy take care of her.”
I never actually wanted to kill someone. Literally, just rip out their fucking heart with my hands, but right then? Man, give me a gun and I’d blow Vito’s head off. Tommy’s too, just to do the world a favor.
The thought of rotting in a shallow grave outside of Vegas after Tommy’s brand of punishment was impossible to swallow. Maybe that was why my throat was so thick and dry. And never seeing the twins again? Fuck that. I couldn’t stomach it either. I was going to break. Vito knew it. I knew it. Threatening Reese was just his twisted form of whipped cream. And I fell for it hook, line, and motherfuckin’ sinker.
“San Francisco.” I wouldn’t sell Ryan out. Not all the way. Just enough for them to back off because if thirty-four million didn’t sate my hunger, then revenge did, and the twins and I were going to get the fuck out if only to show them that we could.
“Ryan or the money?” Vito was fucking gleeful.
“Both, I think.” I took a moment to hawk up some bloody mucus. “He’s going to Canada, but I think he put whatever it was he stole in a storage unit in San Francisco.” I took my time committing to the lie, convincing myself it was real. If it were true, how would I feel?
“Where in Canada?”
“Don’t hit me,” I begged. “I don’t know.”
“But you have an idea,” Vito said.
I started to nod, but the pressure in my skull ratcheted up a couple notches. “He once told me that if he was going to disappear it would be where no one could find him, where no one would think to look.” I tried to remember the name of a city in Canada, any city. Hell, a province would do. What was in Canada? Damn, it was hard to focus. “Best guess, Nova Scotia.” That was a province or something, I was sure of it.
“And the money?” Vito was probably envisioning a fat bonus from Christopher.
“He gave Reese two gold bars, gave me one. Told us to get the fuck out of EDH, and the next morning, he was gone. I don’t know anything else.” The ache that was my body had mellowed so I could pinpoint the various centers of pain. My head hurt, of course, the whole thing was just a mass of blood and pressure and nausea. My back and ribs all along my sides and spine felt broken and splintered. I got visions of my shredded bones floating through me. Even my arms, where I had a set of meaty hands gripping my biceps on either side, burned from holding up my body. At least I’d stopped crying.
“How do you know he went to San Francisco?”
“I got a call.” I tried to lie, but the truth bled out a little. “From a friend, a guy I knew at Sac State. He saw Ryan in a bar. Said he didn’t look too good. So the guy called me. By the time I got the message, Ryan was gone.”
“Good kid.” Vito praised me again. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”
I didn’t answer because all I knew was pain and it showed no signs of abating.
Chapter Nineteen
I tried, I really tried to stay conscious, but it so wasn’t happening. At that point, why bother? So I could relive the past few hours? Fuck that. I’m not sure if I passed out or fell asleep, but I woke up to car doors slamming and a sudden rush of noise. It was wind and voices and competing strains of music. Then there were hands grabbing me and yanking me onto a floor that was really hard. There were people and buildings and enough chaos that nobody noticed when I hit the curb and the car squealed away. I sat there trying to orient myself, but it was hard because the world kept moving and I couldn’t tell if the lights and c
olors were real.
“Sugar, are you all right?” A woman crouched in front of me, her knees to one side because of her skintight dress. The wind blew her teased blond hair across her cheek and she brushed it away with long blue nails.
“I think…I don’t know,” I said. “My head hurts.”
“You look pretty beat up.” That wasn’t a woman. Her voice, it was slow and melodic and just a little too deep. I liked the sound of it. “Can you stand?”
“Maybe.” My mouth was all metallic. The blood caked on my lips made them tight and dry. Experimentally, I opened my mouth and moved my jaw around a little. At least it was working. I attempted unsuccessfully to get up.
“Careful, sugar. Take it slow.” Her wide hand gripped my elbow and guided me to my feet. As we stood, she slid an arm around my waist. Fuck, that hurt. It was like shards of glass were in my stomach and just fucking stabbing everything. “There. Better?” She started to let go and I swayed.
“Uh-oh.”
She tightened her grip again and I gritted my teeth against the onslaught of pain, which just made my head hurt more.
“Let’s get you inside.” She guided me toward a doorway facing the street. I tried to read the sign, but the lights were so damn bright. Inside it was darker and somehow pinker. There were half naked women dancing, gyrating together, with poles, and walls of glass. My savior guided me to an even darker corner where I fell into a padded chair.
“I need to call my girlfriend.” I dug into my pocket for my cell phone. A fan of hundreds came out with it and floated to the chair and floor. The woman was kind enough to gather them and stuff them back into my pocket. I pushed the green button on my phone until I heard it ringing.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been fucking worried.” Reese’s voice was easily the best thing I’d ever heard in my life.
“Babe. Vito got me.”
“Vito? What do you mean he got you?” She sounded scared now.
“I…he…” I couldn’t really remember how to talk. My face hurt; talking hurt. “I’m hurt.” I just told her what I was thinking.
“Where are you?”
“It’s, like, a bar, I guess. There are lots of women here.” Eloquent. “They’re dancing.” Helpful. Man, I was tired.
“Can you walk?”
“I’m sleepy.”
“Just stay there. Can you talk to me?”
“Yep,” I promised and promptly fell asleep.
*
I loved the smell of Reese. She smelled like…Reese. And Reese smelled good.
“Cooper. Sweetheart. Wake up.” Warm hands held my face.
I opened my eyes and it was Reese. “You smell good,” I told her.
“Good to know. I need you to wake up though. Can you do that?”
I wanted to do what she wanted, really I did. The problem was that everything hurt. Just fucking everything. Even my eyelashes and toenails. I raised a hand to touch my eyes. I wanted to know how they could hurt so much. My hand brushed my nose and then I really hurt. It came away with fresh blood.
“Coop, look at me.” I did. Reese was so pretty. “We need to get you out of here, okay?”
“Okay. Be careful.” She probably already knew we had to be careful.
“I know, babe.” She slid an arm around me and someone on my other side did the same. We navigated through a dark, sultry room and were suddenly on the street. My head was kind of hanging and I saw that I was leaving a trail of blood. It was dripping off my face every couple steps.
“I’m bleeding.”
“Don’t worry about that,” came a melodic voice from the side that wasn’t Reese.
I turned to look into some of the most serious eyes I’d seen on a woman. Or was that a woman? “Who are you?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled. It was a real smile. It went all the way to her eyes, not like Vito.
“Shit. Reese. Vito. They got me.” The past few hours started coming back to me and I remembered. “We gotta get out. They’re coming.” We reached the rental car. Reese opened the door and the woman half lifted me into the seat.
“Thank you,” Reese told the woman. “You’re very kind.”
“Just trying to help, sugar.” There was that smile again. “You kids try to be safe, all right?”
“We will, thank you.” Reese went around and got in the driver’s seat.
“Reese.” I had to tell her. “Vito knows Ryan’s in San Francisco. We’ve got to tell him.”
“What do you mean?” She wasn’t even listening, just watching the road. She thought I was crazy.
“I had to tell him something. They already had me, but Tommy was going to get you and so I told them Ryan was in San Francisco.” It made sense in my head. Not as much when I said it out loud.
We drove another block and Reese pulled to the side of the road again. “I’ll call him, okay?” Reese traced a finger over my cheek. Her hand was shaking. “Tell me what happened.”
“I told you. Tommy—”
“No. Start at the beginning.”
“Vito told me to get in the car. I shouldn’t have gotten in the car.” What a dumbass. “He hit me. In the head. A lot.” I tried to remember. It was all messed up though, a jumble of sound and feeling. “He kicked me. It hurts. Right here.” I waved my hand from pelvis to shoulders.
“Did anything else happen?” For once, Reese’s eyes were unreadable. They looked a lot like when Ryan was about to lose a video game, but more. Way more.
“There was a guy―Tommy.” I wanted to explain what kind of guy Tommy was so Reese would know. If she thought I just sold Ryan out, she’d never forgive me. I was protecting her though. “He has, like, a specialty.” Very carefully, I wiped my upper lip with the back of my hand. Half-congealed blood left a streak on my skin.
“I know Tommy.” Her jaw started working back and forth. “What happened, Coop?”
“Vito threatened me with Tommy and I was like fuck that. But, Reese,” I was begging her to understand. “Reese, he was going to come after you. I had to do it.”
“Do what, babe?” She seemed frustrated and I didn’t know why. Maybe she was mad about Ryan.
“Tell them where Ryan was. I swear I lied about most of it, but I told them he was in San Francisco.”
“But what about Tommy?”
I turned to stare out the windshield. “He’s a creepy motherfucker.” A shudder went through my shoulders.
“But he didn’t…” Reese swallowed hard and tears started to gather in her brown-gray eyes. “He didn’t get out his knife, right?”
“No. He had it out.” Her tears started to fall. “Thank God he didn’t fucking use it. I mean, what a douche bag.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” She gasped through her tears. “Cooper, you asshole.”
“What?” I hated when girls cried. I always thought it was my fault.
“I thought he raped you.” More gasping and sobbing. She wasn’t listening.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
“What?” she screamed.
“He threatened me and he said they were going to come after you. I had to tell them where Ryan was,” I explained for the millionth time.
Reese collapsed back in her seat breathing hard and staring at nothing.
“Reese?” It finally clicked. “Are you crying because you thought he raped me?”
“I can’t believe we dragged you into this,” she whispered. “Money isn’t worth it. Nothing is.”
“But he didn’t. They just beat me up.”
“What?” Screaming again. “You fucking asshole.”
“Stop yelling. It hurts my head.”
“Sorry.” Reese finally looked at me. “But you’re okay? Fuck. I was so fucking scared.”
“I still feel like shit.” I don’t know if that was supposed to make her feel better or worse.
“You look pretty fucked up.”
“Thanks.” I attempted to grin. It hurt so I stopped. “I w
anna go to sleep.”
“That’s a bad idea.” Reese started the car up.
“Why?” I leaned back and closed my eyes. My whole body was killing me. I just wanted to take some painkillers, curl up, and sleep. Except I was pretty sure curling up would hurt.
“You need to stay awake.”
“Nuh-uh.” I was already drifting.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Reese said.
“Whatever you say.” I opened my eyes to look at her. She had her cell phone out and was dialing a number. “Who you calling?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Reese said to the person on the other end of the line. “Sorry to wake you up. I’ve got a problem.”
“Who you talkin’ to?”
“I’m with Cooper. She got beat up really bad.” She paused. “Hit in the head repeatedly and kicked in the ribs.” Another pause. “I’m not sure. She seems coherent, but a little out of it.”
“You’re out of it,” I told her.
“I don’t know, Kerry.” What the fuck? “I’m kind of freaking out.”
“Fucking Kerry?” That pissed me off. She called her ex to see what to do with me? Bitch. I snatched the phone away from her, clicked it shut, and tossed it in the backseat. “Why are you calling your fuckin’ ex?”
“What the fuck?” Reese kept one hand on the wheel and reached into the backseat. It took her a second to find the phone.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“What are you doing? What is wrong with you?” Reese started dialing again. “She’s an EMT. I want to know if I should take you to a hospital or not. If not, she can walk me through how to take care of you.”
“Well, call someone else.”
“You think I want to call her?” Yes. “I don’t. I’m doing this for you.”
“Yeah, right. Fuck that.” I reached for the door handle and opened it. We weren’t going that fast.
Reese grabbed my T-shirt and yanked me back as she tapped the breaks then sped up. The door slammed shut. “Sit down and shut the fuck up,” she yelled at me. “Don’t even think about moving.” Her hand was still fisted in my shirt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Dirty Sex Page 20