Arsonist's Roller Coaster

Shivers ran down my spine. I knew something wasn’t right. I knew Marcus knew where she was, and I didn’t think it was at some ritzy hotel spa having her nails done.

“What did you do?” I snarled, my voice deepening to sound a lot like Dad’s.

“I told you. She dead weight. You don’t need her. I gave her that package as a decoy. She didn’t deliver.”

“What do you mean, ‘didn’t deliver’? She didn’t make it to the mark?!” I was practically shouting now.

“Look, we don’t need her. I was going to tell you the good news before you interrupted.” He was trying to sugarcoat his words, present them like an irresistible gift. “We are going into business together!” He smiled and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“No, and I don’t drink. Where is Wendy?” I demanded.
“FORGET HER !” He yelled at me with such force I physically shrank back.

“No!” I said firmly. “She is my friend.”
“Charlie, I can get you as many ‘Friends’ as you want.”
“I want Wendy back. Now.” I felt my nose tingle. Don’t cry.
“Where is she?” I almost begged.

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