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My heart falls out of my ass.
“What…” My mouth’s sandpaper. I swallow. “The fuck do you mean, one of yours?”
“I’ll admit, I didn’t recognize her at first,” Hook says, slugging his drink. “Different…” He waves a hand by his head. “…appearance. Too bad, ‘cause she had beautiful hair before. Nice body, too. Small tits, but great legs, a decent ass. Good earner.”
No. Nuh-uh. I can’t be fucking hearing this. I can’t be—
Tink?
Working for Hook?
There’s no way. There’s no way she’d ever do that. Not if she had any other choice—
My stomach wrenches. Like my body realizes before my brain.
That she didn’t.
She didn’t have a choice.
“Shut the fuck up,” I say, bark, loud around the ringing in my ears. “Quit—quit fucking with me.”
“Oh, I’m not fucking with you, Pan. Not even close.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, so his smug-ugly fuckwad face is only a few inches from mine, so I can smell the fucking garlic clam sauce and whiskey on his breath. “I’d know that little slut anywhere. Because you know what your little whore of a friend did, Pan? Stole from me. Damaged my property. Killed a very valuable client. I wanted her dead. She should be dead. Another dead trash piece of ass.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I roar. “She wouldn’t—she’s not—”
“But she is, Pan.” He’s so calm. Almost fucking amused. And now I realize, realize way too fucking late, that I’ve fallen for exactly what he wants me to do.
Money. Territory. Guns, smack, gold fucking bars, none of that ever mattered to him. Not with me. He wants to be under my skin. In my head. Torturing me. Embarrassing me. Showing me up and making me suffer. Like I did to him, way way back when.
Payback was never about cash at all.
And when he saw Tink, he found the perfect way in.
“She never told you? I’m surprised. Or—” He shakes his head. “You know what? Not so much. Not surprised. You use people, people use you. Why would she tell you anything?”
I’m tense. Seething. Fireworking with rage all over again, so much it’s paralyzing me in my seat.
“See, Pan, that’s what separates a businessman from a punk kid.” He lands the Ks so hard that I can feel his spit fleck my face. “For all my flaws, I have the trust of everyone I work with.” The two fingers tighten against the glass. “I’ve earned it. I’ve—”
“Fuck you, you have.”
I’m on my feet, the whiskey bottle’s in my hand, my arm’s swinging, and the whole thing smashes like a grenade against the picture window, loud and messy and obliterating the view of those fucking dogs.
Behind us, the bartender lady screams.
The door bangs open. Security man on the job, piece out and aimed. I jump back, go for the knife in my back pocket—like that’ll stop a fucking bullet—but Hook waves him off, and then a second time when security man doesn’t break.
I’m leaving. I’m gone. I go hands up, I surrender, ducking for the door before Hook can issue some kind of pardon and look all benevolent. Fly across the landing, jump down those stairs, bolt out of the awning.
CHAPTER 24
TINK
“Ah!” I duck out of the way as one of Nana’s stick-skinny legs jabs a paw right by my eyes. “Is she trying to kill me?”
“No,” Wendy says. “No, she’s just scared.” She reaches over and strokes the dog’s long neck. “I’m sorry, girl. I know you don’t like getting your nails done.”
I plop back on my ass and give Nana a long, hard look. Her big brown marble eyes are soulful, almost like she’s sorry that she almost took my own eye out with her claw just now.
