Page 111 of Defending You
“If I don’t check in, my dead-man’s switch activates. Every name, every transaction, every dirty secret of every dirtbag you’ve collected goes public.”
“You’re bluffing. How could you possibly have?—?”
“It’s amazing what you can do with AI these days. Just had to upload the information to the cloud and type up an email, addressed to law enforcement and, for good measure, every newspaper I could think of.Times,Herald,Globe. Even added theInquirerout of Philly. Wouldn’t want your friends at the club to miss the news.”
Guys like him always had a club, didn’t they?
“It’s scheduled to send in half an hour. Unless I stop it, that is.” Asher let that simmer, then said, “Are you ready to make a deal?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Gagnon’s words carried the smooth confidence of a man who’d orchestrated a thousand betrayals. He met Cici’s eyes as he spoke to Asher on the phone. “You’re going to come to me. Alone. No backup, no law enforcement, no clever little schemes.”
Cici wished she could hear Asher’s response, but Gagnon hadn’t put this call on speaker. Whatever Asher said made Gagnon’s mouth curve into that cold smile she loathed.
“Insurance?” Gagnon chuckled, the sound less amused than evil. “You want to play games with dead-man’s switches? Understand this: the moment I suspect law enforcement is involved, the moment I see so much as a suspicious shadow, she dies.”
Cici pressed herself against the filing cabinet, her zip-tied hands numb behind her back, wishing she could disappear.
He was quiet, listening. Then said, “Ruin me? Maybe.” Gagnon’s tone was conversational. “But she’ll still be dead. And I could, as you suggested, run. You saw the contents of that SD card. Do I seem like a man who hasn’t considered—and planned for—every contingency?”
Tightness around his eyes and a barely perceptible stiffening of his shoulders told her there was more going on than what he said.
He listened, then sighed. “One moment.” He tapped the phone screen. Must’ve been the mute button, because he spoke to Souza. “He wants to talk to her.”
“We can prove she’s alive without a conversation.” His flicker of eagerness had her stomach turning.
Souza took pleasure in hurting her. He’d proved that with every kick, every pinch, every slap—timed so Asher would hear.
“We’ve provoked him enough,” Gagnon said.
Souza’s lips slipped into a frown. “She’ll give him information.”
“You’ll have to think of a way to keep her quiet.”
Souza stared at her, and as much as she wanted to cower, she forced herself to hold his eye contact.
Despite the ribs that blazed with pain. Despite the way her cheek burned and her head throbbed, she didn’t back down.
Crouching in front of her, Souza yanked off her shoes and socks, then pulled a knife from a sheath where it’d been tucked beneath his sweatshirt. He positioned the blade across her big toe. “It won’t kill her.” His evil grin returned. “But it’ll definitely stop her from running.”
Gagnon didn’t bother lowering to her level, just looked down at her. “Do not try to give your bodyguard any information. Tell him you’re fine and we’re treating you well.”
“So you want me to lie?”
“I want you to keep your toe.”
As much as she was desperate to tell Asher where she was, how many men were here, and how she was guarded, in this, she and Gagnon agreed.
She was pretty attached to her toes. And Souza wouldn’t hesitate to make good on his promise. “Fine.”
Gagnon tapped the phone, then lowered it toward her.
“Asher?”
“Cici, thank God. Are you all right?”
She flicked her gaze to her captor, refusing to look at Souza and his well-placed knife. “Mr. Gagnon is as gracious a host as you’d guess.”
