Page 87 of King of Cruelty

Pulling up her text messages, I found the group message between her and her buddies easily—it was labeledThe Quay Street Squad.

“Stupid fucking name,” I muttered, typing quicker than fast.

“Debra”: That fuck-toy bitch throat punched me and ran off. She’s loose somewhere in the building with a phone she stole out of the security desk.

I hit send.

A flurry of texts lit up the screen.

Wilson: What!?

Maryann: Fuck! Where is she!

Yumi: What do we do?

Jillian: Are you okay?

“Debra”: I’ve taken worse hits to get to where we are now, and I’m fuck sure not going to let her get in our way. But we don’t have time to look for her, and the girl, and the flash drive. We need to speed this up, but first, where are you? Are the Merchants secure?

Maryann: They’re secure. They wisely didn’t put up a fight on the way up, especially when Wilson traded our knives for guns.

Wilson: Alexander has a treasure trove. I couldn’t take it all with me, but I did throw all the ammo out the window. The guns are useless.

I cursed.You’re not as stupid as I want you to be, Wilson.

Wilson: I’m waiting for the elevator now.

Yumi: And I’ve got the Merchants tied up with muzzles pressed to their brain stems. We’re good.

“Debra”: Good. Here’s the plan. We’re moving the auction up. It goes off within the hour. Yumi and Maryann, start bringing in the bombs.

I stopped the elevator on a random floor and let myself out, allowing it to continue to Bane and Wilson.

Yumi: Now? We can’t.

Maryann: Because of that designer bitch?

Wilson: We can’t move it up. They’ll want immediate delivery of their Merchants as soon as the money goes through. We can’t deliver until we’ve got the flash drive.

“Debra”: We’ll have the flash drive, and you can thank the designer bitch. Adeline’s bastards are obsessed with her. They’ll do anything to stop me from “torturing” her.

The wave of smirky, winky faces I sent was obscene.

“Debra”: Wilson, just tell Bane to give up the flash drive, then put me on the phone. “Her” screams will do the rest.

Wilson: You’re a genius. But what if he figures out it’s not her?

“Debra”: Every scream sounds like another. He won’t risk it. Just do it. But first, put your phones on do not disturb. Block all unknown numbers. We don’t want the real designer bitch to pull something with her stolen phone.

Wilson: Got it.

Maryann: Done.

Yumi: Done.

Natalya: Got it.

Jillian: Done. Now get that flash drive. Let’s finish this.

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