“No, I need you with me. Marco can stay.”
“I got it,” Marco said. He didn’t look up from his phone. He was playing a game. Bejeweled, it looked like.
“Man, I want to fuck her. She looks like an uptight bitch that’ll scream good for me,” Tommy said.
“There’s no time. You can fuck her when we come back.”
It was a lie and Paul felt no remorse saying it. If Black agreed to his conditions, they would have to release her. No damage or the deal would fall apart.
Tommy shoved to his feet. His eyes gleamed. He rolled the gun around his finger like Clint Eastwood—then pointed it at Paul.
“Put that damned thing down,” Paul ordered.
Tommy grinned. It was a stupid grin, filled with malice and maybe a touch of insanity. Then he flipped the weapon and shoved it into his pants.
Paul thought if there was any justice in this world, the damned thing would go off and Tommy would lose a nut.
It didn’t though.
“If you’re ready?” Paul asked coolly.
“Yeah, man. Ready when you are. Let’s go meet these assholes.”
Marco looked up with an arched eyebrow. There was wisdom in that gaze. And a touch of meanness. Had to be to work for Steve.
“Guard the girl,” Paul said. “I don’t want anything happening to her.”
“Got it, boss,” Marco replied with a smile. “She’s safe with me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Angie moved in the direction of the stairs as soon as the men were gone. It took her a little bit of time, reaching blindly in front of her, to find the metal railing. She didn’t really think the door at the top was a way out, but she had to try.
It was better than sitting on her ass and waiting for them to come back. Especially the creepy one who’d asked if redheads felt more pain than other people. She didn’t want to be alone with that one, ever.
Angie moved cautiously. She hadn’t had enough time to assess the condition of the stairs before the lights went out. She’d had a vague impression of metal stairs and railings leading up to a gallery. But were they safe?
She didn’t know, hence the caution. She knew she had to be careful once she reached the top. The door wasn’t directly in front of the stairs. She remembered that. She would have to turn to the right and make her way along the wall. If the door didn’t open, she’d need to get down on hands and knees to make her way back. She’d be less likely to lose her balance that way.
Angie was about halfway up when she heard a scratching sound. It was soft, deliberate. Rats?
“Shit. Not rats. Please no rats.”
Rodents hadn’t occurred to her before, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Didn’t mean they hadn’t crawled over her while she’d been passed out on the mattress, or hadn’t scurried out of her way as she’d made her circuit of the room.
The thought gave her the heebie jeebies. The scratching continued and she pictured rats, everywhere, with their long yellow teeth and red eyes. Waiting to jump on her. Angie’s heart beat harder, making it difficult to hear the scratching over the pounding in her ears.
She had to keep moving. Had to get to the door and find out if it opened. If it didn’t—well, she’d worry about rats afterward.
Marco stood up as soon as he heard the van drive away. That little prick Tommy thought he was going to fuck the redhead. Maybe he was, but Marco was going first. Paul and Tommy would be gone for an hour, maybe more. Plenty of time for Marco to make her strip naked for him.
He’d keep the flashlight in her eyes so she couldn’t see him. Then he’d put the hood on her if she’d taken it off again, and make her get down on her hands and knees so he could fuck her doggy style.
His dick was already hard thinking about it. He’d been thinking about it since he’d tossed her over his shoulder and held her by the ass. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were so sharp they could cut glass. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them.
Marco grabbed the keys as he passed from the office to the interior hallway. Then he walked down a set of stairs to the door which led into the warehouse. There was a flashlight on a table beside the door. He grabbed it and inserted the key into the lock.
When he had the flashlight ready, he opened the door and shined it into the room. The girl wasn’t on the chair or the mattress. He shined the light up—and found her on the stairs. She’d lifted an arm over her eyes to shield them from the light.
She was almost to the top. Marco walked inside and shut the door behind him. He pocketed the keys and took out his pistol. Gun in one hand, flashlight in the other.
“What’re you doing up there, girlie? Better get down here before you hurt yourself.”
He talked nice because that’s how you coaxed a skittish woman to do your bidding. You were nice to her. If that didn’t work, then you shoved the barrel of the gun into her mouth and threatened to blow her away.
“What do you want?” she asked. She wasn’t moving, though. She gripped the railing tight and looked off to the side, away from the light.
“I want to help you. The others are gone. It’s just you and me.”
He saw her hesitation. Then her jaw firmed. “You aren’t going to let me go, so what do you really want?”
“No, I can’t let you go. But if you come down here and play nice with me, I won’t let them hurt you. I’ll make sure you get to go home when this is over.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Marco was a patient man. He was also a horny one. “You can do this easy or
