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“Delivery for Ms. Maisy Jordan?”
“Yup, that’s me.”
The guy hands me a small white box with a big red bow across the top. Huh. Well, that’s unexpected.
“Thanks,” I mutter as I sign the handheld device and tuck the box under my armpit, wobbling on my crutches.
“You got it?” The delivery guy shoots me a smile.
God, these crutches will surely be the death of me. Given my blundering tendencies, they’ve only heightened my probabilities of disaster a hundred-fold. “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.”
Closing the door, I hobble back into the living room with my present. Maybe it’s from Jack… I refuse to acknowledge the more likely candidate because I’ve promised myself to completely remove the stalking mobster from my mind.
Too bad the same can’t be said for my lusty cooter.
Even barely conscious she remembers every sinful touch.
Plopping back down on the couch, I tug on the end of the ribbon. A whisper of excitement quickens my pulse as the bright red bow sloughs off. Inching my finger beneath the tape holding the lid closed, I finally pry it open.
Confetti shoots out, and a faint gasp slips out. With a chuckle, I brush off the colorful dots covering my legs and the floral couch, then dig through the crimson filler paper. My fingers close around a small notecard. Ripping it open, I focus on the elegant handwriting.
I told you not to go out with him, little fox.
A tremor rolls up my spine, and goose bumps cascade across my arms. I grab the crinkly paper by the handfuls until I reach the bottom of the box. A pair of pale blue glassy eyes stare up at me through a small clear container.
I let out a shriek and drop the box. The container pops open, and the eyeballs roll out amidst a sea of crimson shreds of paper. Oh, my God. I clap my hand over my mouth as nausea claws its way up my throat.
It can’t be…
Nico wouldn’t have…
Would he?
I stare at the mess on my floor, my heart kicking at my ribcage. I try to force in a breath, then another, but my lungs have all but quit on me.
A glint of silver catches my eye within the crimson mess. Summoning my last remaining shards of courage, I crouch down, avoiding the bloody eyeballs and dig through the scraps. My fingers close around a silver thumb drive.
“What in all the world?”
My first impulse should be to call the police. Nico’s depraved games must stop. He murdered a man for taking me for coffee! What kind of sick effer does something like that?
But that thumb drive burns in my hand. I need to know what’s on it. I can deal with the eyeballs and the man who stole them later.
Hobbling over to my desk, I insert it into my laptop and hold my breath as it fires up. An array of files populates each with a female name and a date. There are literally hundreds of them.
A sickening feeling churns in my gut as I hover the mouse over the first one. Inhaling a deep breath, I click on the folder, then on one of the mp3 files within. A dark image of two bodies coalesces on the screen and moans fill my living room. Oh, shitzu! I frantically jab at the volume button on my laptop until the sounds are nothing more than faint murmurs. Then, squinting, I take a closer look at the male screwing a young girl from behind.
Sugar, honey, iced tea! It’s Jack…
I click on another file and another. Each one is worse than the last. Some girls look like teenagers. It’s clear from the way he positions each woman, he’s posing them for the camera, and from the looks of it, they’re completely unaware they’re being filmed.
That dirty, no-good, rotten douchebag.
Nico’s words from the other morning at the café flit to the forefront of my mind. You should really do your research before agreeing to a date with a stranger, little fox. One would think you would’ve learned your lesson after Jasper but luckily, you have me.
Oh, lordy, he knew. Nico knew exactly what kind of man I was going out with. Why didn’t he just warn me? A swell of anger fills my chest, chasing away the fear from a second ago. I was tired of being a pawn in sick men’s lives.
Reaching for my phone next to my laptop, I pull up Nico’s last message. My fingers fly over the keys as I punch out a scathing text.
