Page 127 of The Maverick
His lips trembled. “We had a deal! I’m supposed to help you!”
“The deal is still on—you won’t die.” I slipped on latex gloves. “You lied to me earlier, so you need to pay.” I jerked my chin toward his hands. “Which one?”
I sensed the fear pumping off him. I remembered my younger self experiencing the same fear while Milton had recorded three heinous boys beating me. I could have died thatday. People like them didn’t deserve mercy. They were bullies then, but now they were abhorrent monsters.
Milton’s right hand trembled as he lifted it slightly. Big Mike gripped his wrist and slammed it down on the table. I grabbed a large knife and chopped off all his fingers except the middle one. His screams filled the room, and he passed out. My men treated his hand, stopped the bleeding, and inserted a tiny device under the fingernail of his middle finger. They wrapped it in gauze and waited for Milton to regain consciousness.
Milton Kalkounis had a message to deliver to Ashton for me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
ATTIKUS
The next day,I sat in the hotel lobby in New York City, sipping my coffee. My meeting wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes. I looked at the map of Providence on my phone and smiled.
“So that’s where you are,” I said to myself.
Along with a tiny device underneath Milton’s fingernail, I’d also embedded a tracker in the soles of his feet.
Using Orion’s software, I hacked into the Blue Chic Suites, a small bed-and-breakfast, and checked their occupants. When I saw “Picasso” for suite number thirty-five, I knew it was Ashton. He always liked Picasso in high school. I downloaded the blueprint of the suite and looked for his room. It was a corner suite with a private yard.
Scheduling the device to be active in tenminutes, I entered the conference room for my meeting. Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed, and satisfaction rolled through me.
When the meeting was finished, I checked the breaking news. Sure enough, an explosion had occurred at the Blue Chic Suites, with one casualty reported.
I didn’t know if Ashton was injured in the explosion. Even if he was, his people had probably kept it out of the news. But he now understood that nothing was going to stop me from making him pay.
I imagined Milton’s middle finger ripping off his hand and whacking Ashton in the face.Fuck you.But that was just my wild imagination.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
VANESSA
A man wearing jeans,a white shirt, a casual jacket, and a red cap came into the gallery asking if I had a bleeding-heart painting. He’d been here before asking for the same thing, and when I told him I didn’t have any, he inquired about a custom piece. I’d declined his offer and had expected him to find another artist.
“Sorry, I don’t have any paintings that depict bleeding hearts.”
“Why not?” he asked. “You have lotuses, waterlilies, roses, calla lilies, and other flowers. Why no bleeding hearts?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That flower has never crossed my mind.”
“It’s a beautiful flower. You should paint it.”
“Maybe I will. Is the painting for you or the special lady in your life?”
His eyes gleamed. “The special lady.”
“She must be very lucky to have a thoughtful partner like you.”
The man seemed happy with my comment. He was the last customer before I had to close early for my gathering with the girls.
After a moment, he walked up to me. “I’d like to getA Petal for Your Thoughtsrose painting. The one with the thorns.”
“Excellent choice,” I said.
“This one’s for me.” He handed me his credit card, and I glanced at his name. Dan Wilson.
“We all need to gift ourselves sometimes, right, Dan?” I swiped his card for five thousand dollars.A Petal for Your Thoughtswas a stunning artwork that was more affordable than other masterpieces in my gallery. I tried to offer various price ranges for my customers, but I gave each painting its worth.
