Hustlers by Claire Chilton

them.
    They both turned around to see a white-haired man in a tailored suit staring at them.
    “M-Mr. Starling!” The manager quickly released Jimmy and turned to face his boss with a red face. “I-I er, you have a meeting with this young man?”
    “Yes I do, Roger. I’ll take it from here.” Starling nodded, never taking his eyes off Jimmy.
    “Okay, sir.” The manager hurried away.
    Jimmy straightened his rumpled jacket. “That’s right Mr. Belvedere, you run that little bitch ass of yours back to your desk.” He called out after the manager.
    Then he turned to face Starling, noticing a blond man standing behind him.
That must be Matt.
Ignoring the shiver of fear that ran down his spine, he looked Starling in the eye. “I don’t think very highly of your warm fucking welcome.”
    “I am sorry about Roger. He’s a little protective at times.”
    Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Dude needs the broomstick pulling out of his ass.”
    “Quite. So, do you have the hard drive?” Starling asked.
    “Do you have my friends?” Jimmy countered.
    Starling glanced around. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private, shall we?”
    Jimmy glanced around. At least here, there were witnesses. “I’m comfortable with right here.”
    “It’s not an ideal place to discuss business,” Starling said.
    “What’s to discuss? You give me back my family, and I won’t fuck up yours.” Jimmy gripped the hard drive in his pocket. He knew he was out of his league, but he had a backup plan. He hadn’t been able to find Detective Riley, so he’d recruited someone else for the job. 
    He glanced around the lobby. He couldn’t see his backup plan, but the guy had promised to be here.
    Starling nodded at the bouncers near the door.
    Jimmy glanced back as they walked toward him. “What are you doing?”
    “We’re going to take a walk,” Starling said as his staff grabbed Jimmy from behind, holding his arms. “And you’re not going to make a scene if you want to see your family again.”
    “You don’t know me very well, do ya?” Jimmy muttered. “HELP!” he cried. “I’m only fifteen, and this perv’s a human trafficker!”
    He kicked out at the nearest man, who yelped and released him. He slipped out of his grip and leapt across the nearby couch, scrambling across it to put some distance between himself and Starling’s goons.
    He rolled off the couch and onto his feet before racing across the lobby.
    “Call the police!” he shouted at a nearby woman, who wore a fox-fur coat.
    She widened her eyes at him, jumping back as if he was some kind of bug. “Oh dear,” she muttered.
    “Are you fucking serious? Get out your goddamn phone and call the police!”
    She backed away from him as if he had a disease.
    Great.
    He headed for the windows, spinning around and backing up as he saw the security staff heading toward him. He helplessly glanced around the room.
    Matt Starling grinned at him while holding a gun in his hands. Jimmy recognized the gun. It was the same one Ellie had taken with her. Where was Ellie? Where was his backup plan?

    Ellie burst through the hotel windows like the swamp thing, soaking wet and dirty. Shattered glass fell around her as she landed on the thick rug in a kneeling position. She glanced up at Matt ahead of her with narrowed eyes.
Payback’s a bitch.
    “About fucking time.” She heard Jimmy mutter beside her. “Jesus, is that seaweed in your hair?”
    She flashed him a quick smile. Then in a blur of rage, she launched herself at Matt, leaping over the couch and slapping the gun out of his hands as she used her body weight to knock him to the ground. She rolled on top of him and repeatedly punched him in the face until his smile slipped, and his eyes closed. Her drenched clothes hung off her, and her loose hair hung down in dark tendrils, dripping water onto him.
    Curbing her rage, she glanced over her shoulder to find her father standing over an unconscious Jerry Starling, brushing down his