Chapter 505 Chapter 505
Tripp looked at Darrel, he looked even more pissed off than he had before, but was doing a good job sitting still so the wire didn’t cut into him. At least he’d decided he wanted his hands. “I could watch her do this all day.” It wasn’t a lie; he could spend the entire day looking at her. Focus. His cat reminded him. He almost grinned, now his cat was in the game. Blowing out a breath, he pushed away from the wall and moved over to sit on the other chair across from him. “When is the pickup?”
“How much am I worth?”
Tripp turned to look at Amari, and she shrugged, “aren’t you curious how much,” she motioned her hand up and down her body, “this, is worth?”
Biting his tongue so he wouldn’t say what was on his mind, he turned back to Darrel—who was completely focused on Amari and not him. “I guess you picked the wrong helpless female.” His dark eyes finally moved back to him, “the little one,” he frowned, “I forget his name, she bit off his ear while she was still tied to the tree.” He didn’t seem to care, “then when she wasn’t, she bled him out,” Tripp tapped the side of his neck where Amari had sunk her knife into that man. Turning his head, he glanced at her, “I’m sorry, darlin, what was it you said his blood tasted like?”
Amari moved just her eyes to look at him for a second, the look told him she was very entertained by him asking, “like candy.”
Tripp nodded, “right, sweet like candy,” he turned back to Darrel, “that’s how the little guy’s blood tasted.” That got the man’s attention, some of the hardness in his eyes changed to a mix of confusion, and the dawning of how much he’d underestimated the Alpha female was evident. “That,” Tripp shook his head, “that wasn’t her best move.” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, “she took a taser to the other one’s balls.”
Darrel jerked his head to look at her and then right back to Tripp.
“That’s right, she’s very,” Tripp rubbed his hand over his chin, “inventive with punishment.” Dropping his hand, he tilted his head, “you could save yourself and just tell us what we need to know.”
“If you think you’re going to get out of this and go back to your vile choice of profession,” Amari came over and stood a foot from him, looking down at him. Darrel lifted his chin to look at her, “there are two ways you’re leaving here,” she nodded her head slowly, “in cuffs with a few friends of ours or in a body bag,” she shrugged, “your choice.” She grinned, “one of the guys coming to pick you up is so broody, I just know he’s got a lot of unprocessed baggage,” she tapped her chest, “inside, so you know, he could just take it all out on you without warning.” She smiled, “up to you.”
Tripp watched Darrel as she turned around and went and sat on the bed, he just wasn’t getting it. “Answer three questions and we’ll get you something to drink and then leave you alone until your ride gets here.” He wasn’t about to tell him that wasn’t happening until tomorrow. “When is the pickup, where, and who’s the traitor inside the Alliance.”
“Four questions,” Amari said quietly, “how much am I worth?”
Tripp glanced at her and then back to Darrel, “what is a perfect female specimen going for?” He heard her laugh softly but couldn’t let her distract him from this. It was already a struggle not to just sit here and look at her.
Darrel swallowed, it looked painful, his throat must be really dry, “I’m not telling you shit.” His voice cracked as he talked.
Amari sighed in a loud dramatic way. “He has no sense of self-preservation, Tripp.”
He nodded, still watching him, “I noticed.” Leaning forward, he lifted the dart gun and pointed it at his face, “what do you think one of these would do,” he bent his wrist and pressed it against the side of Darrel’s head, “right in the temple?”
“Probably something bad,” Amari stated, “they tell us not to hit anyone in the face with them.”
Tripp nodded, “it wouldn’t penetrate the skull, but the temple, it might pierce there.”
“Nasal cavity.” Amari turned and sat on the side of the bed, facing them, “it would definitely penetrate that.”
Tripp moved the gun tip and then pressed it against the side of the bridge of Darrel’s nose, forcing him to close the eye it was covering. “Right here?” He didn’t turn to look at her, he wanted to see when this idiot realized his life depended on him talking.
“Yeah, don’t you think that would work?”
Tripp nodded his head slowly, “I think it might.” He sat back and moved the gun away, “they don’t tell us what happens if we do make a successful headshot though,” he watched the man look at the gun and then move his eyes slowly back to him. “Do you think it’s strong enough to render someone a vegetable?” Tripp looked over to see Amari was very interested in this topic.
“We could find out and say it was an accident.” She smirked.
Tripp frowned, “that wouldn’t look good in my file.”
“You always worry about what your file says?” She grinned at him this time.
“No,” he smiled back at her, “not really.” She leaned back on her hands and crossed her legs, then bounced her foot like she was bored. Tripp didn’t mean to but still ended up looking at her from her toes to her face. The bite on her neck was visible and a sense of proprietary went through him when he looked at it. When he got to her eyes, they looked amused that he was taking the time to ogle her when they had work to do. He winked at her and then turned back to Darrel. “When is the meet to pick up Amari?” Darrel visibly clamped his mouth shut.
Amari leaned over and looked behind the chair. “You’re doing a great job keeping your arms relaxed, Darrel, not even a single drop of blood.” She actually sounded impressed and that pissed Tripp off, that she had any emotion for this man. Sitting up, she smiled at him, “I have an idea, Tripp.”
He probably looked like an idiot staring at those lips and not answering immediately. “Oh?” His cat was closer to the surface and Tripp didn’t know if it was because of her or the man she’d been taunting.
She stood up and went over to his bag and reached into the side pocket of it. She pulled out the wire they’d used on his wrists and spun around looking very animated, “what if,” she bent down and reached under the bottom of the cuff of her jeans and pulled out a thick handle. He didn’t see a blade. With the push of a button, it became a three-inch hawkbill knife.
Tripp raised one eyebrow, wondering if that was one of her boot knives or if she kept one in her cuff too. She was a walking, sexy little armory.
She paused to smile at him, “what if we use this,” she held up the wire, “and wrap it around his balls,” she cocked her head to the side, “I’m not sure how that works, really, I haven’t done a close-up study,” she glanced back at him and licked her lips and Tripp, being the sick bastard he was, suddenly pictured all the wrong things involving her lips and parts of him instead of the threat she was trying to illustrate to Darrel. “I’m thinking,” she moved over to stand closer to the other man and waved the knife toward his crotch, “if he were to cough or try to move it might cut into them,” she winced, “or off, I can’t be sure.”
Turning, he noted that she had Darrel’s focus as he gave the knife and wire a wary look. “Either way it’s the kind of pain that makes a man throw up.” He said in an even voice. Darrel jerked his head to look back at him. His face was blanched, his eyes wide. Oh yeah, now we’ve got your attention. With slow moves, Tripp got up and motioned to him, “have at it, just try not to stain the carpet too much.”
Amari nodded, “good point,” she turned and moved quickly to the bathroom, then came back out with a towel. She pointed the knife at Darrel, “just sit real still though, I wouldn’t want you to slice your own wrists.” She dropped the towel on the floor under the chair, then squatted down in front of him.