Page 84 of Dressed to Kill
Fuck, that hurt.
I put my hand over it and the whole hand came away red and gory.
A shadow appeared over me, and I tried to lift my gun, but someone kicked it out of my hand, and it went skittering across the pavement. Someone else hauled me to my feet and shoved me face first against the back of the bullet-riddled car. Hands went all over me, pulling out my back up pieces and my knives while someone else held my cheek against the car so hard my jaw ached. I watched them move through the scene, kicking over bodies to check. When they reached Dmitri, he sprang up and put a bullet in the fucker who’d opened his door, but it didn’t matter. The guy behind him shot twice into the front seat, and Dmitri slumped over.
Fuck.
The Italians yanked me away from the car, shoved me to my knees, and pulled my hands behind me to work a zip tie around my wrists. “Da poshli vy na khuy! Strelyayte, suki truslivyye!”Fuck you. Shoot me, you cowardly bitches.
I knelt there and breathed and thought about EJ. At least they hadn’t gotten him. He had a chance. At least he was—
"Hey, boss." A voice said from behind me, clearly amused with himself. "Lookie what we found."
They dragged EJ into the light and threw him down on his knees beside me.
Fucking hell. The kid looked like he’d fought at least. He was going to have a hell of a shiner in an hour.
"Aleksi Laskin." Kastelani stopped in front of me in his spotless Italian coat. "You've cost me a great deal of money."
I snorted and spat a mouthful of spit and snot on his expensive coat. “There. Now I’ve cost you a little more on my way out.”
“Fucking Russians. This coat is dry clean only.” He scowled down at me, shed his coat and handed it off.
Then he drew his fist back and punched me in the face. I’d give him this much, the man could throw a hell of a punch. He rattled my skull good with that one.
“Where are my diamonds, Laskin?”
“Eat shit, you fucking limp dick Gucci wannabe.”
He hit me again, this time hard enough that I rocked backward and my vision flickered. Someone shoved me back into place.
“Whereare mydiamonds?”
“Gurgle my ballsack and find out.” Fin would be proud of that one.
He drew his fist back for a third go.
"I know where they are," EJ blurted.
My head snapped to the side to glare at him. He sat there with his chin up, blood on his eyebrow, eyes defiant.
"Shut your mouth," I said. “He doesn’t know shit.”
“I know everything,” EJ lied. “I’m the one you want.”
What the fuck was this kid doing? Was he trying to get himself killed?
Kastelani gestured to the kid with his gun. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m—”
“He’s nobody,” I snapped. “Just some dumb kid who wanted to play mafia. He’s not even part of this. The idiot followed me here. His mom’s waiting for him back home.”
The kid puffed out his chest, straightened, and said, “My name is Evander Jackson Laskin, and I know exactly where your diamonds are.”
I stared at the kid, mouth open. Laskin? What the fuck was he doing stealing my fucking name like he had some right to wear it. “His name’s Renko, not Laskin. He’s—”
“Enough!” Kastelani growled. “I’m not going to stand here and sort this shit out on the side of the road. Take them both," Kastelani said, already turning away, already done with us.
