“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” I told him, thinking of how I was in Jersey right now and my “trouble” was restrained in my motel room, waiting for me. “You’re so full of shit you float.”
“I mean this most sincerely, Leon, and you can quote me. Fuck. You.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I sighed. “Fine. I’ll meet you at Mom’s tomorrow. I need to talk some shit out.”
“Sounds heavy. Want me to call Ryan and make this a MacCarrick Mafia thing?”
MacCarrick Mafia. Our tongue-in-cheek name for the three of us following in our older brother’s footsteps. Not a real mafia, of course. Not even close. But we were brothers, and brothers stuck together. No matter what.
“Yeah. If you have a clean phone. Tell him I need a new car and to trade in the one I’m driving. He’ll know what I mean.” The pizza delivery driver pulled off the street and into the motel parking lot, slowly cruising in my direction as the driver looked for my room number. “Listen, man. I got to go. I’ll see you soon.”
“Be careful, Leon. Think about someone other than yourself for once.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what you think it means. You believe you’re all badass, but so did Cal.”
So did Cal, and he’s dead. That’s what my brother meant but stopped short of saying out loud.
“Listen. I gotta go. See you tomorrow.” I disconnected the call as the delivery driver pulled into the slot near my car. He got out, carrying the red heat bag, and was about to head over to knock on the door.
“Hey, man. Over here,” I called as I climbed out of the Audi, reaching into my back pocket to pull out my wallet. “A meat lovers and a vegetarian, right?”
I figured the med student princess I had bound to a chair for a vegetarian. All the kids were vegetarians these days. And she was in college, so my odds were good.
Christ, I couldn’t believe I was buying her pizza…and worrying that she’d like it. Fuck, I was losing my grip.
Something was very fucking wrong with this picture. Somehow, Sofia Accardo had gotten into my head. It felt like it was going to be a real problem getting her out again.
As usual, I was right.
CHAPTER FOUR
SOFIA
At least I didn’t need to pee while tied to a chair.
Leon had “allowed” me to use the toilet before he zip-tied my ankles to the legs of the chair and zip-tied my hands behind me. He’d insisted I keep the bathroom door open but hadn’t watched me relieve myself. So he might be a cold-blooded killer, but he wasn’t a perv.
Actually, Leon was too intelligent and cautious by half, but even though he wasn’t exactly kind, he wasn’t cruel when he could be. I mean, I had duct tape over my mouth, but after he’d tied me to a chair, he’d turned on the television for me. The most absurd thing of all? He’d scrolled through the menu and let me pick out something to watch.
I quickly nodded at one of the first shows that came up, just to get him away. It was unnerving to be restrained and helpless and dependent on someone else to do something so simple for me. Was he trying to humble me? Humiliate me?
Honestly, I didn’t think so. It seemed as if this was all business to Leon. He didn’t want me escaping or calling someone (he’d taken his duffel bag with him and the room’s phone, even though I was bound to the chair), so he tied me up. Sure, he’d touched me when he’d tied me up. My legs, my hands. Then smoothing the strip of duct tape over my mouth. But he hadn’t groped me. And he’d asked me if I could breathe freely through my nose as if he was actually concerned about it.
After I’d reluctantly nodded that I could breathe and the zip-ties weren’t cutting off my circulation, he’d grinned and told me to “sit tight,” as if I had a choice. The asshole thought he was really hilarious with that crappy, lazy joke at my expense.
The bastard. Even though my fear had gone from mind-numbed terror down to something low-grade and constant, I still hated him. I wanted a murderer like Leon to rot in jail for the rest of his life.
You’re certainly a great, big hypocrite. How many killers and criminals attend your father’s big “family” parties? Did you ever want them in jail?
That sharp-edged, critical voice of dissent in my head could go fuck itself. I wasn’t in the mood.
The motel door opened. For a sliver of a second, I had hope that it was someone here to save me. But it was only Leon MacCarrick.
My disappointment must’ve shown on my face because he smirked. “Not happy to see me? You’re hurting my feelings.”
I made a noise like disapproving grunt. One of the only sounds I could make that wasn’t “Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!” with my lips sealed by this damn tape. But the grunt was enough to let him know nothing had changed. I hated him more than ever.
