Private Princess

Chapter 50

Michael “Flex” Gibbon had waited years for this moment, and the picture of Morgan’s anguish made every second worthwhile.

“Hello, Morgan. Shame we couldn’t do this in person, but good to see you again.”

Morgan recognized the voice of the muscle-bound maniac with his gun held to Cook’s head.

“Whatever it is you want,” Morgan tried, “you can have it. I will sell Private, and you can have every dime.”

“This isn’t about money, Jack!” Flex shouted at the phone, his rage boiling over. “This is about honor! This is about righting a wrong! You don’t walk into my town and insult me! You don’t come onto my turf and sucker-punch me in my own gym!”

“Sucker-punch?” Cook laughed at Flex’s feet. “He beat the shit out of you!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Flex snarled, pistol-whipping his captive with such force that her head snapped back and blood gushed from her nose.

“Jane! Please, Flex,” Morgan pleaded, “I’ll do anything.” He meant every word.

“Anything?”

“Yes. Anything. Anything!”

“Good.” Flex lowered the pistol and ran his hand through Cook’s hair. “So shall I tell you what I want, Jack?”

“Yes! Just tell me! Tell me and you’ll have it!”

“I’ve already got it, you prick,” Flex laughed. “All I want, Jack, is for you to watch.”

Then he lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.