with Rogerâs help . . . Couldnât hurt to ask.â
Relief drains from every muscle. Two downâone hard-ass left.
âIf weâre going after a unicorn, Roger has to make it worth my while,â Nick says. âI want him to cough up some cash.â
âHow much?â
âOne hundred thousand dollars.â
I blow out a breath. âSteep.â
Nick snarls. âFor a guy like Roger? Thatâs nothing.â
âAgreed,â Mat says. âIâve tapped enough DMV databases to recognize these are pretty high-end boosts. I canât even wrap my head around how weâll get our hands on Morrisonâs ride.â
âNo way Roger will go for this,â Chelsea says. âItâs too complicated.â
Maybe. But Roger isnât a simple man. My gut says heâll agree to our termsâbecause beneath the veiled threats and tough-guy bravado, thereâs an undercurrent of something else.
Desperation.
And if thereâs one thing I know a little about, itâs that.
  â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢Â Â
I find Roger in the dining room snacking on oysters and cheese. I donât know whatâs more disgusting, the smell or watching him stuff one of those slimy things in his mouth. I gag a little out loud.
He cocks his head and motions for me to sit. Jesus, thereâs even a piece of seafood caught in his mustache. I think Iâm about to be sick.
âHow do you eat that shit?â I find a chair far enough away that the oyster smell doesnât ignite my gag reflex. âNever mind. I donât want to know. Weâd like to further negotiate the terms.â
Roger runs his tongue over the top of his teeth. They shimmer like theyâre coated in oyster oil. Nausea coils in my stomach.
âI wasnât aware Iâd left an opening for further negotiations.â He cups his hands on the table, fingers interlaced. Itâs the first time Iâve noticed the thin gold band around his skeletal ring finger. âHowever, you have my attention. Continue.â
Cocky SOB.
I quickly outline the terms. The money stuff doesnât bother him, but he hesitates when I get to Matâs request. He dabs his lips with a napkin. A red letter M is monogrammed into the linen. âAnd for yourself?â
âThe deal for my sisterâs lifetime support stands. She wants to dance, so thatâs got to be a part of it too.â
âDone.â
My shoulders sag with relief.
âIâm still waiting to hear your terms. What do you want.â
Good question, and Iâve run out of stall tactics. I think about ballet and dance and going back to the hot lights and the stage. My toes curl into the floor until they cramp. âIâm too old forââ Rogerâs face lights up with interest. I pull back. âSame deal as Nick. I want a hundred grand for the Shelby.â
Maybe I donât know how Iâll spend it, but itâs enough to get me and Ems out of here. Start over. Settle down. Tears prick my eyes and I bat them away before Roger can further prey on my vulnerability.
He folds his napkin into a perfect square and sets it on the table. I hold my breath with anticipation. He pushes his chair back, stands, and extends a hand. âI accept these terms.â
My entire body hums and a fuzzy sensation floods my head, making it hard to focus. I should be celebrating my win, but the truth is, I have a sinking feeling Iâve just sold my soul to the devil.
10
I COVER MY MOUTH TO trap the snort of laughter. â What is on your lip?â
âPour quoi?â Nick twirls one end of his fake mustache. âDoes it not give me ze illusion of sophistication?â
I roll my eyes at his botched French accent. âYeah, porn stars are super sophisticated. Jesus. That thing doesnât even look real.â
To be honest, Iâm making a bigger joke out of it than necessary,
Louis - Sackett's 08 L'amour