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I move slowly to the trunk, holding up my palms to show I’m not going to try anything. I want to know who he’s fucking talking about, because my brain is off on its own merry-go-round at the moment and nothing’s making any goddamn sense. “I just want to see why my father decided she was worth his time.”

The gun’s still pointed at my head, but I know he won’t shoot me. His orders aren’t to kill me.

“You fucked her, so you should know why. Did you just say father?” Then he starts laughing. “Hey, Benny boy, this is William’s son. This keeps getting better and better. We got ourselves some father and son action.” Bugsy Malone decides to come around and join our little shindig.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” How did they not know I’m the son of William Dupré, if they made sure the letter was in my possession? They are just the delivery boys, as they stated, so their boss must not deem them high enough to know all the details. That means there may be another party involved issuing orders.

I tamp down my rage. I have to stay calm. If this guy sees me as too dangerous, then he won’t hesitate to kill me if he knows it’s either him or me—fuck his orders.

Bugsy’s pretty confident his accomplice can handle me. He’s standing watching us with his arms crossed, smiling at me with a very confident grin. He’s dark-skinned, and he has extremely white teeth that are going all neon in the moonlight.

“Relax, delivery boys. I just want to see what she looks like.”

Ivory’s looking at me like I got hit way too hard, and that’s gonna have to work for me. “You were the one fucking her in the parking lot earlier, which, by the way, I have told Boss Man she’s everything he could ask for.”

I’m not hearing him correctly.

“What are you talking about?”

“The beauty you were fucking on your bike. William Dupré owes my boss, and he’s now collectin’. You’ve already damaged the package, and he’ll be none too pleased, but if you walk away, there will be no hard feelings.”

I pretend to sway a little.

Bugsy pipes up. “Deano, I think you hit him too hard. He’s lost some of his memory. I sure wouldn’t forget sticking my dick inside this little bitch. That was quite some show you both put on. I could have done with some popcorn.” He actually grabs his crotch and starts gyrating his hips. “I nearly came in my pants watching her performance. Boss Man is sure gonna be pleased with the merchandise.” Then he gives a low dirty laugh as he grabs hold of his dick again.

Yeah, Bugsy, you’ve got balls…for the meantime anyway. I hope he isn’t too attached to them.

Now I’m getting beyond pissed off with all this blathering.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Ebony and Ivory underestimate my attitude towards them. The upper hand, remember? I play a role to get what I need.

I have to see for my own eyes. “Let me just have one last look.” I give Ivory a little sneer. “She was a great fuck.” This couldn’t be Sara. “Don’t do anything stupid because the Soulless Bastards don’t forgive. My president knows where I am, and he won’t give a shit who your fucking boss is.” I give him a warning so I don’t wind up in the trunk when I bend over to take a closer look.

“Keep your panties on. Just take it nice and slow, and we’ll all leave here tonight in one piece,” Ivory says, watching me carefully. He’s the smarter one out of the two, because Benny Boy is really misjudging me. I think that gangster outfit makes him believe he’s bulletproof, but last I knew, Superman was no gangster.

My odds aren’t too good at the moment of taking this guy and Bugsy out. I have no bones with these guys, or with my father’s dealings. I came to exact retribution, and now everything has gone to shit.

Nothing is black and white anymore, except for these two morons.

Ivory shines a flashlight on her face. I rest my left hand on the trunk while the other pulls the hoodie back off her head, revealing her pale face to me.

Motherfucker.

It’s Sara. She’s got a bruise forming on her face and her eye is starting to swell shut. Her shirt has lifted up and there’s a nasty bruise appearing on her right side. She’s out cold. Her chest is moving, so she’s still alive. Her hands are zip-tied together, and there’s fresh blood staining her chest, which means she hasn’t stopped bleeding from my gunshot, and they’ve obviously fucked her up more.

This really gets under my skin, and I don’t know why I’m feeling this strong emotion. If I had a gun, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it on either of them.

Shit, I knew she was lying about her name, but it never crossed my mind my father would hook up with a girl so young.

What the hell is going on here? I need time to process, and my head’s pounding like a bitch in heat. I just want to have a good look at her and see if there’s anymore damage, but I won’t get that time. I’m lucky he’s even letting me do this.

My father was an evil bastard, but something isn’t right here with Sara being Whisper. She’s too young for my father, and she has an innocence about her that was hard to deny. Not unless she’s a fucking award winning actress? You couldn’t fake her sexual purity on my bike. She’s no whore; I would bet my money on that.

So who the ever loving fuck is she, and what did she truly mean to him?

I slowly turn my head and look over my shoulder, putting on my hunter’s face, the deadly one. “Why didn’t you let me kill her? Why does your boss want her alive? To me, she’s worth more dead.” He’s no longer shining the light in the trunk. I hope my questions will distract him while I casually pull my cell phone out from the left front pocket of my riding leathers. I pretend to lean heavily on the car, the movement allowing me the freedom I need to get the phone hidden inside the trunk.

I just hope like fuck she finds it and I can get to my Prez to let him know that nobody is to call that number. I need it to track this car with the GPS in it, not taken off her because it’s ringing away in their trunk. They would have already searched her prior to dumping her in the back. That’s just Kidnapping 101. I should be able to find where she’s being taken.

“Consider her erased from your life. Whatever your beef with her, you got your cock wet, you got to mouth fuck her, and now she’s got a one-way ticket. Boss Man will take it from here.”

This cocksucker is so sure of himself and that I’m just gonna walk away, which puts me in another realm of pissed-me-the-fuck-offs.

Soulless Bastards have a reputation far and wide, but I still can’t wrap my mind around Sara being Whisper and meaning something to my father. She’s living at the bar. She told me that much when we were talking. She hesitated just a split second outside a room, which at a quick glance was feminine, but then she changed her mind before I finger-fucked her in the back room.

Previously, the name Whisper meant a money grubbing old whore, but now...I got no fucking clue what it means.

What am I condemning her to?

Earlier, this was my show, but now I’ve been bought out by another station. Something is seriously fucked up here, my gut is screaming at me. I need to be done with it all, just walk away, and burn the place down, but...something isn’t ringing true.

Why is one of the best fucks I’ve ever had, lying unconscious in the trunk of their getaway car, bleeding from a gunshot wound I’d inflicted? This woman my father had shacked up with should not be a young female, and her real name shouldn’t be Whisper, and she shouldn’t have her name embedded on my father’s last will and testament. She’s supposed to be some old whore, not Sara from the bar, but repeating these facts to myself doesn’t change anything.