odd angles. He’d heal by morning, but the process would be more painful without the bones being set first. “I bet that hurts almost as much as a gunshot wound. Here, let me help.”
“No!”
Gripping his index and middle fingers, she wrenched them back into place. The shriek he let out could have woken the dead. “That’s for my shoulder. This is for Dmitri.” She gave his ring finger and pinkie the same treatment.
When the screaming stopped, the door opened, and Dmitri stepped inside. His expression was completely unreadable. “I take it you convinced him to talk?”
Crossing the room, she met Dmitri at the door. In a lowered voice, she said, “He was kind enough to share what he knows.”
Dmitri took notice of Tommy’s shoes and socks on the floor beside the chair. “Do I want to know why you took those off?”
She shook her head. No way was she going there with him.
Thankfully, he didn’t push her for an answer.
Now that the excitement was over, her body felt heavy with fatigue. Mentally exhausted, she walked back to the desk and dropped her knife in the bag. She needed rest, and she needed food if her body was to heal by morning. And she definitely needed a drink. Something strong enough to make her forget about this godforsaken day. “What do you want to do with him?”
Dmitri zipped the bag for her and slung it over his shoulder. “Toss him back in the trunk.”
“That’s bullshit!” Tommy’s face flushed red as he struggled against the restraints. “I’ve answered all of your questions! Let me go!”
“Why would we do a stupid thing like that? You’re not going anywhere until we verify your information.” Dmitri tucked Tommy’s socks inside his shoes and picked the shoes up by the laces. “If any of it fails to check out, I’m giving you back to her.”
Chapter 7
G wen wasn’t the only one who needed a good stiff drink.
As much as Dmitri hated to admit it, he was relieved she’d taken the lead in interrogating Cooper. The thought of inflicting that kind of torment put a ball of ice in his gut. Even so, he was still disgusted with himself for allowing a woman to do his dirty work because he lacked the mental fortitude. And not just any woman. Her. It pissed him off and made him feel like shit all at the same time.
After trussing up Tommy and locking him in the trunk, they’d stopped at the nearest liquor store, ordered a pizza, and checked into a motel close to the highway.
“Think we should tell Samuel about the artifact?” Gwen asked as she stepped through the open doorway. She crossed the modest room in a half dozen strides and placed the pizza box on the table by the television.
“Not yet. He’ll only tell us what he thinks we need to know. Let’s see what we can find out first.” Dmitri closed and locked the door behind him. The faint scent of cleaning solution lingered in the air from a recent pass-through by housekeeping. The room wasn’t much, but it came with two beds, which would spare them an argument over sleeping arrangements. He dumped his weapons bag and Gwen’s duffel on the floor between the beds. The shopping bag full of booze went on the table.
Gwen flipped open the pizza box, and the spicy scent of marinara filled the air. Stress and strain lined the corners of her eyes, but she perked up at the prospect of dinner. “Mmm. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Not surprising. The last time you ate was around eight hours ago. Your body needs nourishment to repair that bullet wound.” He sank down on one of the threadbare chairs and grabbed a slice from the box. “How are you feeling?” he asked before taking a bite.
“Tired. Achy. A little sleep and I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She dragged a hand through her short blond hair. The light failed to reach her eyes when she smiled, and for some strange reason it pained him to see her spirit diminished.
After wolfing down two slices, he dug into the bag and pulled out the bottle of vodka.
“No!”
Gripping his index and middle fingers, she wrenched them back into place. The shriek he let out could have woken the dead. “That’s for my shoulder. This is for Dmitri.” She gave his ring finger and pinkie the same treatment.
When the screaming stopped, the door opened, and Dmitri stepped inside. His expression was completely unreadable. “I take it you convinced him to talk?”
Crossing the room, she met Dmitri at the door. In a lowered voice, she said, “He was kind enough to share what he knows.”
Dmitri took notice of Tommy’s shoes and socks on the floor beside the chair. “Do I want to know why you took those off?”
She shook her head. No way was she going there with him.
Thankfully, he didn’t push her for an answer.
Now that the excitement was over, her body felt heavy with fatigue. Mentally exhausted, she walked back to the desk and dropped her knife in the bag. She needed rest, and she needed food if her body was to heal by morning. And she definitely needed a drink. Something strong enough to make her forget about this godforsaken day. “What do you want to do with him?”
Dmitri zipped the bag for her and slung it over his shoulder. “Toss him back in the trunk.”
“That’s bullshit!” Tommy’s face flushed red as he struggled against the restraints. “I’ve answered all of your questions! Let me go!”
“Why would we do a stupid thing like that? You’re not going anywhere until we verify your information.” Dmitri tucked Tommy’s socks inside his shoes and picked the shoes up by the laces. “If any of it fails to check out, I’m giving you back to her.”
Chapter 7
G wen wasn’t the only one who needed a good stiff drink.
As much as Dmitri hated to admit it, he was relieved she’d taken the lead in interrogating Cooper. The thought of inflicting that kind of torment put a ball of ice in his gut. Even so, he was still disgusted with himself for allowing a woman to do his dirty work because he lacked the mental fortitude. And not just any woman. Her. It pissed him off and made him feel like shit all at the same time.
After trussing up Tommy and locking him in the trunk, they’d stopped at the nearest liquor store, ordered a pizza, and checked into a motel close to the highway.
“Think we should tell Samuel about the artifact?” Gwen asked as she stepped through the open doorway. She crossed the modest room in a half dozen strides and placed the pizza box on the table by the television.
“Not yet. He’ll only tell us what he thinks we need to know. Let’s see what we can find out first.” Dmitri closed and locked the door behind him. The faint scent of cleaning solution lingered in the air from a recent pass-through by housekeeping. The room wasn’t much, but it came with two beds, which would spare them an argument over sleeping arrangements. He dumped his weapons bag and Gwen’s duffel on the floor between the beds. The shopping bag full of booze went on the table.
Gwen flipped open the pizza box, and the spicy scent of marinara filled the air. Stress and strain lined the corners of her eyes, but she perked up at the prospect of dinner. “Mmm. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
“Not surprising. The last time you ate was around eight hours ago. Your body needs nourishment to repair that bullet wound.” He sank down on one of the threadbare chairs and grabbed a slice from the box. “How are you feeling?” he asked before taking a bite.
“Tired. Achy. A little sleep and I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She dragged a hand through her short blond hair. The light failed to reach her eyes when she smiled, and for some strange reason it pained him to see her spirit diminished.
After wolfing down two slices, he dug into the bag and pulled out the bottle of vodka.
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