Canary by Tijan
Ash
Iopened an eye, but only one because damn, the world already hurt so much for this early in the morning.
Wait.
No.
That didn’t seem right.
I closed my eye again, and it registered that I was on a bed.
My arm hurt. I hurt all over.
What had happened?
“Boss.”
I didn’t know that voice.
“She’s awake,” he added.
I opened both eyes and wished I hadn’t.
A light shone down on me, and I hissed, knowing it was supposed to be there and it was supposed to disorient me.
“Move that away.”
“What? Oh. Sorry.” The light moved away.
I could see a guy sitting next to me, inspecting my bandaged arm.
I lifted my head, looking over his shoulder to see who “boss” was, and a man stepped forward. He was dressed in an expensive business suit, and he had a handsome face. Classic features. High cheekbones. Full lips. He looked Latino—with dark hair, dark eyes. Tall. Almost skinny.
His lips curled up in a slight grin, as if I was amusing to him. He straightened to his fullest height. “You killed one of my men because he was going to shoot a dog. That’s the most striking part for me. You didn’t care about the old man he shot, but the dog.” He shook his head, throwing a look at someone farther into the room, back where I couldn’t see. “Abram tells me you’re important to Raize.”
Abram, as in Abram Basil, as in he needed to go talk to his boss, the head honcho for the Estrada Cartel before telling us about a meeting.
I was beyond screwed here.
“What’s your name?” The guy had softened his tone, and he sat down, bending over to rest his elbows on his knees.
He was trying to make himself more appealing to me, coming down to my level. He was talking to me like I was someone who needed a soft voice.
Fuck him.
“Carrie.” Abram spoke for me.
Estrada nodded to himself before narrowing his eyes. “Carrie what? What’s your last name?”
I didn’t answer.
Abram spoke. “I doubt anyone knows it.”
Another nod from Estrada, and he motioned to me with an opened hand. “Do me a favor, Carrie. I doubt you’ll give me a real last name, and I doubt Carrie is your real first name, so pick a name. Any name. I like to indulge myself and think I know someone when I talk to them.”
He wanted a name? Fine. “Marakov.”
The guy working on my bandage froze, and I waited.
There was a glimmer of a grin from Estrada before he sat up again. “Okay. We’ll go with Carrie Marakov. Miss Marakov, if you were in my shoes, what would you do with me?”
The truth? “I’d let me go.”
I would. That was the bleeding heart in me, the kind that would take shears to a guy about to shoot a dog. The dog that tried to tear my arm off seconds later.
He studied me and something must’ve clicked because he let out another sigh, glancing to the back of the room again. “Make the call. I have a feeling Raize will be motivated to get this one back.”
“Boss. Marco.”
Marco.
I tasted bile.
I didn’t like that name.
MarcoEstrada ignored whatever that was about, standing. “There’s a reason Raize reached out for a meeting. I know him. He wouldn’t have done it unless he had something he thinks I will want. Enough time has passed. I’m interested in seeing how he handles me having something he’ll want. I have no heart to torture this girl. Not today.”
He left and Abram appeared in his place, standing so I could see him. He had a phone in his hand, and he gave me a searing look. “You just got incredibly lucky. You know that, right?”
I did.
Man, did I know.
I grunted, wincing. “I liked the yellow suit.” He was wearing a dark blue suit this time.
He snorted, but didn’t answer.
I laid back down, needing to trust that Raize would come through somehow to get me back. I didn’t know how he’d do it.
The guy finished my arm. “I treated you for any infection and gave you a shot, just in case of rabies. You should be good. You’re stitched up, but keep them covered for another day or two. After that, let the air heal you. The stitches will dissolve themselves.”
I raised my eyebrows. Dissolvable stitches. How fancy.
Then Abram spoke into the phone. “Raize, we have something of yours.”
