Page 57 of Reckless Woman
I only want the girl alive.
If he won’t die promptly, my men will bleed him out.
“Did you know that there are parts on a man’s body where you can stab him and he’ll not die for hours?” I say, casually. “As long as you avoid the major arterial areas, you can keep on wounding him, over and over.”
“And your point is…?”
“You come at me, and I’ll come back at you so hard you’ll be begging me to end it.”
He laughs bitterly. “It’s good to know we’re thinking along the same lines.”
“I’m sitting in his chair right now, you piece of shit.” I let out a contented sigh. “I have my feet up on his desk, but they’ll soon be under it. Care for a picture?”
“You can’t keep it up, Viviana…”
I allow my laughter to linger long and hard. “Watch me.”
Slamming the phone down, I tap out a message to my father.
Change of plan. I’m staying here for now.
Ingratiation is a colorless land that I’ll keep on conquering.
This island isn’t done with me yet.
Chapter Sixteen
Joseph
Ilisten to the dead tone, thinking how appropriate that fucking description is.
Dead in the water.
Dead out of ideas.
I’m the man with a plan, but tonight I have nothing.
“Joseph?”
Anna’s hovering on the other side of the bed, biting her thumb nail down to the quick. I can’t bring myself to tell her how deep the rivers of betrayal flow.
“Joseph, please,” she urges. “Is Eve okay? Ella…?”
“We need to go.” Picking up my gun, I chuck the empty vodka bottle into the trash and grab the keys. The Vicodin is still working its magic so at least I’ll be able to drive.
“Where?” she says dully, sensing the truth but not wanting to accept it.
Ignorance is bliss, sweetheart.
I’ve never felt rage like this before. It’s glazing my insides. It’s melting my self-control. Only her presence is stopping me from tearing this fucking motel room apart.
“New York.”
“New York?” she gasps out. “But that’s a fifteen-hour drive from here.”
“Best we get started then.”
I limp toward the door and feel her hand on my arm. “She’s there, isn’t she?” Anna mutters. “That’s who you were talking to just now. She made it onto the island.” She sits down hard on the bed, her face draining of color. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t become friends with her—”