Bonnie Blue knelt on the cold concrete, her red hair plastered to her skull, wrists tied behind her back with a zip tie that bit into her skin. Across the vast, echoey space, J-Mac was in the same position, his broad shoulders hunched, a thin line of blood tracing from his scalp down his temple. He caught her eye and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head. Don’t provoke them.
And somewhere in the dark, Corrigan would be limping, empty-handed, and wondering if he’d ever really seen them at all. bonnie blue jmac
Bonnie’s mind raced. The courier had been a random mid-level thug. Syndicate money changed everything. This wasn’t a simple double-cross; it was a death sentence. Bonnie Blue knelt on the cold concrete, her
Bonnie let a slow, feral smile spread across her face. It was a look that had made stronger men than Corrigan reach for their wallets. “If we’re ghosts, Corrigan, what does that make you? A particularly ugly poltergeist?” Don’t provoke them
Three seconds later, a crack of lightning split the sky, and the world went white.
“Lie,” she said, grinning. “But there’s a getaway car two blocks west. I always have a backup.”