Page 68 of Monk
I train my eyes at Spencer. He’s sitting there with a smug expression on his face. I’ve never wanted to punch somebody as badly as I want to hit him right now.
“You said I had until the end of the day, you lying piece of shit!” I shout.
Spencer tuts me. “Well, given that you stole a big bag of money from me and looked like you were about to run again, you can’t really blame me for acting preemptively, can you? I mean, let’s face it, Kasey, it’s not like you have a whole lot of credibility here.”
If looks could kill, Spencer would be dead ten times over already. But as the anger and indignity of the situation fades, the fear floods my body once more. Though I try to control the trembling, I’m not able to do it fast enough, making Spencer’s smirk even more ominous.
“Tell me, did you have a nice evening with that biker trash last night?” Spencer asks.
A sense of outrage cuts through the fear. My eyes widen and my mouth falls open as I stare at him, feeling absolutely violated.
“You followed me?” I ask.
“You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t keep tabs on you, did you? You stole from me once, how was I to know you wouldn’t do it again? I mean, you did break a trust with me, Kasey.”
“You pig. You freak!”
“You are full of surprises, Kasey. I mean, first you steal, and now you commit adultery? Tsk tsk.”
“It’s only adultery if you were my husband. Which you’re not.”
“The marriage certificate says differently,” he says.
“You clearly haven’t signed the papers, have you?”
Spencer slides an envelope out of his jacket pocket and waves it at me. “You mean these?”
He’s trying to get under my skin, trying to irritate me, and I’m falling right into his trap. Taking a deep breath, I hold it for ten counts, then let it out slowly. I need to think. It’s hard to do so given the fact that nobody knows where I am, I’m trapped with a sociopathic ex and a cartel hitman. Those conditions aren’t exactly conducive to a clear head and rational thought. But if I’m going to get out of here in one piece, I need to keep my shit together.
He takes a lighter out of his pocket and snaps it open, flicking it until the spark catches. Spencer holds it to the corner of the envelope, his eyes never leaving mine as the flames begin licking up the paper. The smell of smoke fills the room as the paper curls and blackens, and Spencer has that crazed look on his face.
But then, the Mexican man slaps the burning paper out of Spencer’s hand and stomps on it until the flames are out. He rounds on Spencer, his face etched with anger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands.
Spencer gives him a shrug. “Just making a point.”
“The only point you need to make is that you aren’t a liability that Zavala’s got to deal with. Permanently,” he says, his voice colored by his accent. “We wouldn’t be here—Mr. Zavala wouldn’t have to come all the way up here—if you knew how to control your bitch.”
“Hey, fuck you,” I spit.
He rounds on me, his eyes blazing with anger. “If you were my bitch, I would’ve knocked your fuckin’ teeth down your throat already,” he hisses and leans closer to me. “If you were my bitch and you stole from me? Oh,chica, you’d better believe that you’d have a bullet in your head already.”
“And it’s such a mystery why you’re single,” I fire back.
The sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh fills my ears, and my head is snapped to the side before it registers that he’s hit me. The coppery taste of blood fills my mouth and points of light are bursting behind my eyes. I blink back the tears, not wanting to show them weakness.
I straighten up in my seat, swallowing the blood in my mouth. Spencer at least, has the good grace to look startled. For a moment, anyway. His expression changes and I see a strange light in his eyes. It’s like he’s never thought of hitting me to keep me in line before, and the thought of it is giving him a hard on.
The other man tugs on the cuffs of his shirt, seeming to put himself back in order. He clears his throat and takes a few steps away, almost as if he can’t trust himself to be anywhere near me at the moment. Spencer gathers himself as well, but looks at me, the smug expression on his face worse than ever.
“Sorry for hitting you. I guess what they say is true. You can take the man out of the hood, but you can’t take the hood out of the man,” the dark-haired man says.
“Oh, yeah. Kasey, this is Xavier Soledad. You can call him X,” Spencer says, by way of introduction.
“Yeah, pleased to meet you,” I say, my voice sounding thick and hoarse.
I reach up and touch my throbbing lip, feeling it grow larger, and my fingertips come away red with blood. The look on Spencer’s face is really starting to scare me and I know I need to get the hell out of here as fast as I can. Things already seem to be coming off the rails and I’m genuinely scared for what’s going to happen when Zavala gets here. I cut my eyes around the room, looking for an exit. Looking for some way I can escape if given half a chance.
