Page 88 of Bullseye
“I’ll tell you,” I counter, stepping in front of him and dropping to my knees, “but you have to answer my questions, too.”
Waiting for the perfect moment, I reach up and begin unbuckling his pants. He drops his head back and bam, I slip my hand into my front pocket and lay the phone on the floor. Now, I’ve got to make sure he doesn’t see it.
“I know you get excited when you see a woman is injured.”
“It’s that obvious?” he jokes. He must be referring to his tiny hard-on.
Swallowing the bile in my mouth, I press on. “But I like it when a man tells me how he outsmarts someone else.”
“You would like that.”
He reaches for the back of my head, but I pull away.
“Not yet. First, tell me you sent Mikey and Tony to that hit that went wrong on September twelfth, three years ago.”
“I think, Seneca, first we play my game, and then we’ll play yours.”
“Fine.” Thinking fast, I try to calm my shaking hands. “But I work better with motivation.”
“How much better?”
He makes eye contact, and although I want to barf all over his thousand-dollar shoes, I keep it together and force a smile.
“Wouldn’t you like to find out? Tell me, Ironclad. Tell me what happened that day that Matt Villetrio was framed for murder…”
“Okay, Seneca. We’ll play your game. But you give me something, too. Take off your sweatshirt.”
Leaning back from Ironclad, I peel off Avery’s sweatshirt and toss it carefully on top of the phone. This way, the police will still be able to hear the confession, but the phone will be hidden. Maybe I just caught a break.
Looking up at Ironclad from my position on my knees before him, I shiver in my fitted jacket. No, there’s no catching a break here. That sweatshirt was the last connection I had to Avery, and the last layer of protection I felt. And now, it’s gone. And I’m alone. As always.
But that’s okay because I’ve always relied on myself.
Maybe Avery will come back, and maybe he won’t. I may not know much about what’s going to happen here, but I do know one thing for sure, if we get out of this alive…
I’m going to kill Avery “Bullseye” Pairings.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bullseye
“What the fuck?” Balancing my bike between my thighs, I yell at Harry over the phone. Looking up, I catch the cross street—Twenty-Eighth. Thank God. It won’t take that long to get back downtown. “She did what?”
“She’ll be live-streaming on her social media. Nothing yet, but Seth is standing by and we’ve called NYPD.”
“She’s trying to trap Ironclad all on her own.” I’m barely able to contain my anger and disbelief.
“Who?”
“Harry, I’m sorry. I’ll explain when I can. You need to tell Seth something for me.”
“He’s here.”
“Harry? Wait. Uh, thank you, man. Really, thank you.”
Will Harry and I ever be able to repair the bond I’ve broken? Who the hell knows? But I sure as hell don’t have the time to think about it now.
“Bullseye?”
