Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Could we be?” Reynold’s joking is attached to him holstering his weapon. “Maybe call it a bonus?”
“What’s wrong, Reynolds?” Blu tightens the restraints, wordlessly informing me I can lower my gun. “Running out of escort money already?”
“Stripper.”
“Still not much better,” my best friend taunts between chuckles.
“I’m bleeding to death!” Guggenheim loudly whines. “I’m gonna lose my leg if you don’t do something!”
“You’re fine,” Reynolds insists and joins Blu in the transporting action. “The bullets didn’t even hit you.”
“They did!”
“They grazed you,” Blu mirthfully corrects.
“I’m gonna pass out from all the bleeding!”
“Don’t worry,” Blu suspiciously starts, “if you pass out, Wahl’ll just shoot you again to wake you up.”
Guggenheim glances over his shoulder my direction only to be met by an arrogant beam.
Like I’ve said before, I don’t like torturing people.
But if it’ll help me get to whoever is trying to kill the only woman I’ve ever loved?
I won’t hesitate to do it.
After relocating him to his corner office only a couple doors over, he’s dropped down into his caramel-colored leather chair at his desk as I park myself on the edge of his built-in bar and remove one of my coms. “We know you’re the owner and operator of Blaakkboaard. We also know how it works. We know all the ins and outs you do so that the clients who need something posted maintain their anonymity, that the entire reason your site thrives over the competition’s is thanks to this anonymity, that your programs and structure were created to protect that anonymity.”
A small sniffle precedes a quiet, “That is correct.”
“We are also aware such skills were groomed and perfected under the eyes of the Doctenn government, courtesy of your lengthy career for the royal family.”
Guggenheim adjusts uncomfortably in his seat. “That is…also correct.”
“Your years with them, undoubtedly taught you the undeniable importance of proper security-”
“You really should’ve hired higher quality than the bouncers with guns you had,” Reynolds criticizes.
“And the importance of proper leverage, which is why I know that when you may claim that those posting jobs and those accepting them are both remaining anonymous, you’re lying. You store that information on backup drives and servers just in case the wrong people ever come knocking.” I lean slightly forward. “Knock. Knock.”
Guggenheim loudly gulps down his fear.
“The good news for you is all I want is information about one person.” One leg crosses in front of the other. “And all you have to do is grant access to my associate for him to grab it. Understood?”
“But-”
Calmly firing off a round that pierces his left pinky toe cuts off the remainder of his sentence. “I’m not negotiatin’, Guggenheim.”
“Fuccccc-”
A matching shot is delivered to the right. “And I’m not arguin’.”
“And if he keeps pumping holes into you, you won’t be able to pull off that move your favorite fuck boy from Dalvegan University likes so much,” Reynolds casually reminds. “It’d be a shame if he had to find himself a new ‘daddy’ to help put him through college and take him on dick sucking adventures in Cabo.”
Horror immediately floods our target’s stare.
“Oh yeah, Guggenheim. We know all about Crispen.” His shallow gasp simply convinces me to continue. “And Andre from Ashwin who probably doesn’t know about Crispen or Peanut Butter for that matter.” The sinister expression on my face deepens. “Peanut Butter who is waitin’ for your call about goin’ out on your yacht tonight, isn’t that right?”
Guggenheim’s jaw hits the bloody floor beneath his feet.
“Gonna be hard to bring him the jelly if we don’t get you patched up soon,” Reynolds villainously teases. “And he,” his finger motions my direction, “needs me,” he kicks his thumb inward, “to get the gear to stitch you up, which I won’t do until you give our associate the access we’re requesting.”
“And it’d be such a shame for somethin’ to happen to those barely legal boys that would ruin their lives as well as ruin yours,” Blu joins in on the persuading. “Leaked sex tapes or photos or voicemails or letting it slip you’re the reason each caught that case of the clam they all pretended not to get because you decided not to wrap it with that snow bunny you let your brother watch you bang when you were back in your home country visiting your sick mother.”
“Be such a shame if you died of blood loss right after she won the battle with blood cancer,” Reynolds theatrically adds.
“Multiple Myeloma,” I announce to further demonstrate the severity of the situation. “Isn’t that right, Guggenheim?”
New waves of fear rise in his wide-eyed gaze.
“I’ll take that look as a yes. So,” I lift my eyebrows to the ceiling, “what do you think? Do we have an understandin’ here?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Blu, you’re up.” He dives into his pocket to retrieve his cell. “Reynolds cut him loose and get the gear bag.”