Dragging in a harsh lungful of air, I try and call out to him, the sound of it nothing more than a strangled sob. I'm hauled up tighter against him, his breath hot against my ear.

"Don't tell me this little shit's worth yours," he calls out with a harsh laugh, "They told me you had a thing for him, Pinocchio. Said you'd be willing to cut a real sweet deal, but I just couldn't believe it. What's the world coming to?"