Page 55 of Lucky
“I don’t know. You ask him.”
“So how much is boss lady worth, then?” The newcomer asks, coming closer to me. He leans in until we’re at eye level, then shoots me a greedy, wicked smile.
“A lot more than he’s paying you, I can tell you that.”
“So maybe your family could sweeten the pot for us, huh? Instead of paying Russo, they pay us, and everybody lives happily ever after.”
“Good luck with that,” I say, my voice bitter. “I’m the only one with access to the purse strings. You’re wasting your time. Unless…”
I let my suggestion hang between us, giving them something to think about. They don’t need to know that Russo is not after ransom money. He would never tell them what he’s after, but what they don’t know could very well work to my advantage.
The newcomer licks his lips, seems to consider the possibilities of a windfall. Rio glares at me, but there’s uncertainty in his eyes. He doesn’t understand how deep this mess goes.
“Come on, man,” he says to the newcomer, pushing him away from me. “This wasn’t part of the plan. Let’s just do our job, get paid and get out of here.”
“Plans evolve,” newcomer says, looking over at Rio thoughtfully. “He’s not paying us nearly enough to babysit this chica.”
“Stick to the plan, Tony. We don’t need any more trouble.”
Newcomer finally has a name. They stare each other down before they turn away and leave me alone. Preppy doesn’t close the door as he joins them.
I hear their voices arguing in the other room, their conversation coming in fractured spurts.
They mention a ransom. Tony reminds them that they are getting paid pennies. I hear Rio saying something about enough money to leave the city and get a fresh start. Preppy tells them he doesn’t want any part of their bullshit, and he’s sorry that he ever signed up for it. Rio calms him down, reminds him why they’re doing this, although I don’t get the explanation.
It’s all noise to me now as they talk over each other, their voices no more than a throbbing ache in the deepest corners of my mind. I blink toward the ceiling, the only way I know that will help me to dry my eyes without the benefit of hands and tissue. I compose my mind, compose my breathing. I have to stay in control here; even though I’m tied to a chair, now in the care of Daniel fucking Russo, I’m still alive, and if I have to fight to my last breath, then that’s what I’ll do.
I listen carefully to their conversation, but it’s dwindled to low murmurs and I can’t make out anything more until I hear a door closing and only silence surrounds me.
A few minutes pass before Preppy comes to the door, his eyes wide and uncertain. His hands shake as he holds a rifle loosely in front of him. Preppy is the wild card amongst the three – the one who has obviously been manipulated into being here. The one who doesn’t want to be here and is way out of his depth. Which makes him my best bet, although I’m not too sure how safe that bet is with his shaking hand and a gun nestled in it.
Preppy doesn’t have the hardened look of the others, the cold calculation. The kid stands awkwardly in the doorway, shifting on his feet like he’s not sure what to do. I stare at him for a moment, watching the nervous way his eyes dart around. He’s just... scared.
He steps into the room and stands in a corner, his eyes never leaving me, as though he’s trying extra hard to make sure I don’t miraculously disappear.
I give him my best impression of a calm, collected smile. It’s the same smile that hides the real power beneath it. The smile that says,I’m in control, even when I’m not.
“You don’t want to be here anymore than I do,” I muse.
He doesn’t respond. But I see the hesitation in his eyes. He’s not like the others. He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t understand their rules.
“College kid, huh?”
His face blanches, as though he’s been caught doing the wrong thing. He looks down at himself, wondering how I could possibly know that. He may be booksmart, but he’s desperately lacking in life skills if he can’t see that his clothes scream “academia”.
“How…how did you know that?”
“Educated guess,” I tell him.
His hands are shaking as he looks at me, and I know I’ve reached him. This kid’s got no loyalty to Rio and Tony, no real affiliation, and probably found himself here by accident. He’s here for the wrong reasons, and he’s terrified of what he’s gotten himself into.
“You really should be quiet,” he says, his voice a half whisper. “If they come back and find you talking to me, they could hurt you.”
I nod my head, tell him he’s right. Then I wiggle on my chair and scrunch my face up painfully.
“You know what is hurting me right now?” I ask him. “My bladder. Can I use the toilet please?”
He shakes his head as his face drains of all color. This is obviously what they anticipated and why they’ve given him the gun. He just never believed it would come to that and he wants no part of it.