Page 51 of I Will Mend You

“Focus,” Xero snaps.

He’s right. I can judge him later. Preferably from miles away and in a police precinct.

“Have you told your boss about them?” I ask.

His face twists into a scowl beneath the mask, and his neck muscles expand like a cobra. “Delta’s the one who gave her all the power.”

Grunt rants about the good old days, when Delta took more interest in producing the movies and used to care about his members. I listen for an opening I can exploit, but all I hear are veiled complaints that Dolly has ruined what was once a brotherhood of men with eclectic tastes.

“He was one of the men in the graveyard video,” Xero says.

I nod, still trying to get a word in edgewise, but Grunt continues his torrent of frustration.

“They used to pay us a percentage of earnings. Now we work for protection,” he mumbles.

My gaze darts from Xero back to Grunt. “What does that mean?”

“Someone leaked footage of us without our masks. We’re now wanted by the cops.”

“Who would arrange something like that to force you to work for X-Cite Media for free?” I ask.

The hint sails over his head as he continues to wallow in self-pity. I grind my teeth. Surely, he could make a deal with the police to bring down the operation from the inside.

“Change tactics,” Xero says.

“Hey, I overheard two of the crew members talking about you earlier. It sounded like they were joking, but…” I shake my head. “It was probably just banter.”

He frowns. “What did you overhear?”

“I don’t want to get between you and your friends.”

“Tell me.”

My gaze darts to Xero, who helps me paraphrase what the men were saying while Grunt was in the scalding water. Grunt’s eyes widen as I reference events and information that only other people in X-Cite Media would know. I end with something else Xero overheard about a crew member using Grunt’s real name to hire items for the shoot.

He rears back. “You must have heard it wrong.”

Shit.

Xero scoffs. “He’s in denial. Try something else.”

I place a hand on his bicep, making his breath catch. “Grunt, has anyone taken a look at the burns on your skin?”

His gaze drops to my hand, then he looks me full in the face. When his breath quickens, and his broad chest heaves, my stomach plummets. He’s misinterpreting my concern as a come-on.

“What do you mean?” he says, his voice lowering several octaves.

“Amethyst,” Xero snarls.

Fuck. I didn’t mean to flirt.

My tongue darts to lick my lips, and Grunt’s eyes track the movement. If I don’t think of something else to distract this sexual predator, I could lose what’s left of my mind.

“Those burns look very?—”

Stopping mid-sentence, I hurl myself to the padded floor, making myself spasm and jerk.

“Amy, what’s wrong?” he asks.