Married to the Bad Boy(79)
Behind him, Melanie clutches her sleeve. “Just give her what she wants!”
“What she wants?”
The incredulity in his tone sends a hot wave of heat up my throat.
“Don’t pretend like you actually give a damn about Tony.”
“Fuck you. He’s my baby’s father. Of course I care about him.”
Even Melanie gives her boyfriend a scandalized look. “Jesus.”
He looks back and forth from Melanie’s face to mine, smiling at our outrage. “You realize that they made this whole thing up, right? There’s no baby. She lied so she could get her ex off her back. It’s all bullshit.”
Tommy’s angry voice rings out in the small room. Tears streak down my cheeks as his sadistic voice slaps my face. I feel it burn as though he actually struck me.
“It was in the beginning, but it’s not anymore.”
“Oh, right.”
“I’m pregnant with his kid, right hand to God.”
He sneers at the earnest tone in my voice and Melanie makes another violent movement toward her boyfriend.
“If you hit me again, I’ll tie you up right here in this office and spank your sweet ass until it’s raw.”
Her face burns brightly. “You are being a complete asshole.”
“No, I’m not. You don’t know this girl. She came here a month ago and told me about her plan to marry a wise guy so that her ex would leave her alone. Fifty thousand dollars, wasn’t it?”
He turns to me with a genial smile that makes my stomach twist. “It was,” I say in a strong voice, “but—”
“—But you don’t give a shit what happens to me if Johnny finds out about this scam, do you?”
I ball my hands into fists as bitterness gathers in my mouth. My tongue curls against the revolting taste.
“It’s not a scam.”
He gives me a very ugly look. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
I’ve lost all fucking patience.
“If you won’t help me, then just give me my fucking money!”
I can’t bear looking at Melanie’s confused face as Tommy wordlessly gets a paper bag and opens the wall safe. He drops bricks of cash in the bag and then slams the door shut. He walks back to me with a deadened look in his eyes, and maybe there’s a sliver of something else. That I better watch my back because the man who helped me out and felt sorry for me is gone.
I stuff the paper bag in my purse and turn around to leave.
“Elena, what about your things? They’re still in Tommy’s car.”
“I don’t care,” I say in a hoarse voice. “I need to find him.”
My feet fly down the bar, ignoring her protests. I run past the patrons and burst outside, thrust into the freezing cold that only feels like a mild distraction. The restaurant where Johnny always hangs out burns in my mind: Le Zinc. I jog down the streets, determined to talk to Johnny before I make my last, most desperate move to save Tony.
Through the pristine windows, I see Johnny seated in the back, flanked by his guards as he picks through his lunch. I yank open the doors and am confronted by the hostile hostess, who recognizes me immediately.
“Mademoiselle, I must insist that you leave—Tarbarnak!”
I ignore her completely, walking swiftly past her to weave around tables, almost bumping into several of them as I make a beeline for Johnny, who raises his head when I approach. Once again his guards throw their arms across my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
“For fuck’s sake, let her though. She’s Tony’s wife.”
The venom in his voice is barely constrained, and I sense a certain amount of revulsion in his gaze. If my status as Tony’s wife is the only reason why Johnny tolerates me, I might be in trouble. Still, he frowns when he sees my tearstained face. I sit down across from him, legs trembling.
“What’s wrong, ma belle?”
“Tony! He’s missing I—I think Rafael has his phone.”
I show him the strange text messages, and Johnny’s sculpted face betrays no emotion. He gives me a blank look.
“You think Rafael is using his phone? Why?”
“He wants him dead. Obviously, Tony got jumped or something, and—”
“And what? Tony is a big boy. He can handle your pathetic, junkie ex.”
“These texts aren’t like him.” Heat boils in my chest as I watch him study his nails. “Don’t you fucking care?”
A dangerous look crosses his face as my voice snaps over him.
“Do I care about one of my men going missing? Yes.”
“Then why aren’t you listening to me?”
“I did listen,” he says in a bored voice as his black eyes slide to mine. “Tony isn’t missing. If he doesn’t show up for a couple days, then I’ll worry.”