Lies(65)
But the man just growls. “I don’t want your damn jewelry or money.”
“Then what? What?”
“Information. You’re going to talk. Your late husband’s friends are causing problems for me. You know who I’m talking about. I got to one of them, but she wouldn’t break. Then I found out about you.” In case the point needed any further elaboration, he slaps me across the face with the back of his gloved hand. “You’re different. Very breakable.”
I’ll be honest with you, it hurts. My cheek damn well throbs.
“Start talking.”
“Please, I don’t know anything.” I hear my voice shaking. This is all horribly reminiscent of Spider torturing me in the basement while Fox looked on.
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“You’re going to kill me, whatever I say.”
“Not necessarily. You haven’t seen my face and I’m using a voice distorter. So if you prove helpful, there’s no reason we can’t part amicably.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Think about it. You’re far more use to me alive. Civilians are so hard to protect. The organization obviously cares about you, however, and that makes you an asset. My asset.” He puts the glass down. “Now, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. Your choice. Are you ready for us to have a little chat?”
“All right.” My voice answers, almost of its own accord. I don’t want to die. “Okay.”
“Then let’s go back to the very beginning. When did you first meet Wolf?”
“Thom. That’s his name. The name he used.”
“Thom, then.” He leans forward, hunching over into my space, his arms linking around my neck. “Go on.”
“It was—”
Suddenly the bang of another gun comes from nearby. The man in black staggers back as he’s hit once, twice, in the back. His weapon drops from his hand and he staggers back a step before hitting the floor, his breathing ragged.
Thom moves into the room with catlike grace, his lips set in an angry line.
All I can do is stare. It’s him. Really him.
His hand clutches my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
And I’m still staring.
He surveys the room, first taking in the downed man, then stopping on my best friend. “Betty, why is Jen still breathing when she’s taken two bullets to the heart?”
The man on the floor coughs and groans.
Thom strides toward him.
“Don’t hurt him,” I yell. “Don’t shoot him in the head.”
Thom looks back at me with a hard glare. Then he reaches down and yanks off the man’s balaclava. “Henry.”
“Hey, kid.” Henry groans and winces. “Fuck. I’d forgotten how much I hate getting shot.”
Jen’s eyelids open, her head still lax against the kitchen cabinet. “Damn,” she says, looking at Thom in disbelief. “She was right. You really did fake your own death. That’s so messed up.”
Thom hangs his head, hands on hips.
And at first I’m just smiling. So much smiling it hurts. Though so does the cheek Henry struck. Not that it matters. We had to make it look believable and apparently we did. Yay, team. Though directly underneath my happy, there’s a huge chunk of pissed off and irate.
“You set this up?” He turns, giving me a dour look. “This whole thing, just to trick me?”
“Yes and it worked. You bastard.”
“I…fuck.” A muscle jumps in his perfect jawline. “What if I’d taken Henry out with a head shot, huh?”
“Why’d you think I was hunched over her like that, just as you came in? Giving you a nice clear shot at my back.” Henry chuckles. “And I knew you wouldn’t shoot with anything that could get past my bulletproof vest, not when a through-and-through might ricochet into the love of your life. If I was still alive after that, you’d probably want to question me. Find out who sent me and if anyone else was coming after Betty. Odds are, you’d at least hesitate before firing again so long as I didn’t go for my piece. Just like I trained you. Face it, kid. We played you like a boss.”
“That was a fast reaction time. You must have been close,” I say, cocking my head at Thom, my voice cold. “Where were you exactly? No…wait…don’t tell me. The silver sedan parked down the street. I’ve seen it in the local area a couple of times over the past few months. Never stays put for long though. Same with the white SUV and blue hatchback.”
“You missed a few.”
“Ah, but you didn’t expect me to notice any of them. Did you?”
“No,” says Thom, wryly. “I didn’t.”
“Untie me, please,” I order. “This is getting uncomfortable. Henry’s knots are far too realistic.”
Thom pauses for a moment. I’m not sure if he was thinking of making a crazy dash for it while I’m still incapacitated. But eventually he gives a resigned sigh and starts tearing apart Henry’s work. One thing I’ll say for mad survivalists, they know their knots.
“Thank you. You know, I’d punch you if I thought you’d stand still for it.” I flex my hands, encouraging the blood flow. “It’s funny, really. Fox told me to get some sun, to get out and live my life. So I started going on walks around the neighborhood. And Bear and Crow were always lecturing me about being aware of my surroundings. Making sure I noticed changes or patterns in the local area and letting them know if I was worried about anything.”