Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Angelo’s expression turns from incredulous to stern. “You and I are going to have a reckoning,” he informs Bobby.
VanDinn looks slightly smug about that. The way Angelo says the word reckoning is cold enough to give a penguin chills.
Bobby winds the window back up, protecting himself with the tint. Angelo can no longer see him, but the patriarchal stare persists for a good few seconds and even I feel it by proximity. Bobby is going to be getting it later.
“Now I want a fucking burger,” he curses, more to himself than me.
I see potential here, a glimmer of light into which a wedge might be driven by someone skilled. Angelo and Bobby’s relationship began as captor and captive, and there is still much rebellion in Bobby. I don’t know if he could be convinced to turn against Angelo completely, but I think he could be manipulated to giving me enough of an advantage to escape.
“Curly fries,” I mention, just saying those two words, knowing they’ll conjure fresh hunger and more frustration in Bobby. He’s kind of a basic animal, not stupid exactly, but very much driven by impulse and desire. I think that’s why Angelo likes him. He’s a lover, but he’s also a pet, like a hyena on a chain.
“Fuck yes. Curly fries,” Bobby groans.
“And a shake.”
“Strawberry shake,” he replies.
I cannot and do not want to try to seduce Bobby sexually — I can’t think of anything more terrifying. But I am getting through to him with food. I’m torturing myself too, of course, but I don’t mind that. I can sense that I’m having an effect here. I was trained to work undercover, and I know that survival in a situation like this means having some kind of hook, some way to get leverage on an otherwise uncontrollable situation.
It’s a good hour until Angelo gets back into the car. I guess there were a lot of details to iron out in whatever deal he and VanDinn were cutting.
When he gets back in the car, Bobby is fuming. A-grade hangry. I slide over to put space between Angelo and me, as Angelo leans in toward the space between the front and back seats as if he is going to say something to Bobby, probably about the way Bobby yelled at him earlier.
I wish Bobby would slide the partition up. That would be the funniest thing ever, to see that black partition just going up and covering Angelo’s face right before he has the chance to start threatening Bobby.
I will Bobby to do it, catching his eye in the mirror, and lifting my brows. There’s no way he’s going to know what I am trying to get him to do. And even if he did, there’s no way he would actually do it. Right?
Bobby meets my gaze. Some mad spark passes between us. He gets it. I see a brief smirk on his lips and then the whirr of motors as the partition starts to rise. A squeal of glee tries to escape me, but I choke it back. I don’t want to pull focus right now.
Angelo’s expression makes it even harder to keep my composure. He looks so entirely befuddled. I don’t think he has been disrespected like this in a long time. Does he know what to do about it? Is he going to let it slide? The partition finishes closing with a satisfying clunk.
Angelo stares at it for a brief second. Then, next thing I know, he’s out of the back seat, slamming the door behind him, and walking around the car.
“Ah fuck!” Bobby jumps out of the car, but Angelo is already around the hood and almost upon him. Angelo is an older man, but he is not an old man, and he moves like a fucking big cat. Bobby should be faster, because he’s younger, but he also has more brute heft, and frankly, I don’t think he necessarily wants to get out of the way.
Angelo grabs Bobby by the back of the collar, spins him around and slams him face down onto the hood. I know this, because I’ve found the button that lowers the partition from the rear and have pressed it just enough to be able to see what’s happening.
The entire car shakes when Angelo slams Bobby down on the front of the car so even I vibrate with his fury.
Bobby is now spread on the hood, Angelo looming above him from behind, one hand on the back of Bobby’s neck, the other working at the belt at his waist. His expression is grim and full of determination. Bobby has a twisted little grin on his face. I don’t think he’s afraid of the belt. I think he wanted this. I think part of him fucking craved it.
Angelo has the belt out of the loops in one swift motion, and has doubled it in his big hands. He keeps Bobby pinned and starts lashing his ass with the leather in fast, powerful, ruthless strokes. If he hit me like that, I’d be absolutely obliterated, but Bobby seems barely affected. He’s actually laughing. I can hear both Bobby’s laughs and the cracking of the belt due to the two doors now wide open, the rear right passenger, and driver’s side.