Unknown: A car will pick you up at 7:45. Get in it.
I look at the other unread message I have from Jodie. My thumb hovers over it, but I fight my need to reach out. If she senses something is wrong, then she’ll start trying to talk me out of it. But this needs to happen. It needs to come to an end.
Well, if that isn’t the most ominous message I’ve ever received, I don’t know what is.
The black bag that Zach dropped off earlier taunts me from beside the dresser where I dropped it. My fingers twitched to unzip it and see exactly what that amount of money looked like, but I didn’t. I trust Zach. He’s my brother. But if I were to open that and not find a stash of cash, then I don’t know what I would do. At least while I’m in ignorant bliss believing that it’s what Jet wants, I can act innocent.
I shower, dress, blow dry my hair, and apply my makeup, but I do all of it in a daze. Part of me expects the message to be a hoax and that someone will come crashing through the door any minute.
I’m not stupid. I know the chances of Jet taking that bag and letting me go scot-free are slim.
Two minutes before my pick-up time, I give myself one final once-over in the mirror.
My makeup is dark, my lips bright red. It might mean nothing to Jet, but it’s my fuck-you makeup. It makes me feel powerful and in control.
I glance down at myself. It’s been a scorching hot summer day, but there was no way I was dressing for the weather. I don’t want to give Jet any ideas by wearing a short skirt or exposing too much skin—not that motherfuckers like him wait for any kind of invitation to take what they want.
I should know, he’s tried.
Shoving my feet into my biker boots to finish off my dark, edgy look, I pick up the incredibly heavy bag and head for the door.
The flat is unbearably empty. I kind of hoped Spike would be home for this to make sure I’m okay. I’m not sure if his presence would have made this any easier.
Seeing him, knowing what we had for those few hours, it’s fucking torture. Almost as painful as his closed-off attitude and general arseholeness ever since.
It’s stupid, but I miss him.
It may have only been a couple of days, but I miss the man I was able to have a laugh with, who didn’t take life too seriously. Not to mention his stupidly handsome face, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at me. Like I was someone important, someone worthy.
I’ve always just been a means to an end to most people, my mother included. It was nice to feel special for once, even if he was only protecting me as a favour for Zach.
“Hi, Kas. How are you?” Louisa asks the second my foot hits the ground floor.
Glancing out the window, I see a black car pull up.
Fuck. Fuck.
“I’m good, thanks. I’m just off for a night out. Meeting a friend,” I lie, hoping that she’ll let me go.
“Aw, that sounds nice. I’m jealous. Since having this one, I can’t remember the last time I went out without him, let alone a night with the girls.”
“You should get Spike to babysit one night, go and have some fun.”
I move to the door, but she still doesn’t let me escape.
“You think he would? I’ve wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to look like an idiot if he said no.”
“All you can do is try,” I say, my fingers wrapping around the door handle, ready to make my escape before I piss off whomever is waiting for me.
“I guess you’re right. The next time I see him, I’ll ask.”
“Go for it. I’m sorry, I really need to…” I gesture over my shoulder, and her smile drops.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. You go. Have a great night.”
“Thank you. Y-you too,” I say with a wince as I take in her dirty shirt and the equally dirty kid attached to her hip.
“We had beans for dinner,” she says as an excuse for the mess.
With a nod of acceptance, I push through the door and hotfoot it toward the idling car.
“You’re late,” a deep voice barks the second I pull the door open.
I don’t bother responding. These aren’t the kind of guys who accept a simple ‘I’m sorry’ and move on. And I’m proved right when I climb in and immediately get backhanded across the face by the guy sitting on the other side.
He reaches out and pulls me across the seats before the door slams shut behind me.
“Do you want your fucking money or not?” I spit, lifting my hand to where the prick just split my lip open again.
“Shut your mouth, bitch.”
Rolling my eyes, I slide as far away from him as I can and keep my stare on the passing buildings.
I try to memorise where he takes me, but we’re soon in an area I don’t recognise, and I know I have no hope of making a smooth escape.
I don’t bother glancing up at the goons up front. I don’t need to. I can feel the passenger’s stare drilling into me through the rearview mirror.
Without looking, I flip him off, much to the shock and amusement of the guy next to me.
“No wonder Jet loves you so much. Feisty little bitch, aren’t you?”
“Bite me.”
“With fucking pleasure, sweetheart. Only, Jet made us promise not to touch. It seems he wants a piece of you first.”
My stomach rolls. “The only thing that cunt is getting from me is what’s in the bag. Then I’m out.”
An evil chuckle falls from him. “Yeah, that’s what they all think, sweetheart. Jet will get a nice little price for you.” His fingertip runs down my arm, and I flinch away.
“Get your fucking hands off me.” I turn to him, my teeth bared in warning,
