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“Why? Drugs aren’t your thing.”
“No. They’re not. I’m not looking to move in on your market or anything like that. I need a supply.”
His eyes dart down me. “Personal?”
“No. Sort of.” Taking a deep breath, I grip the coffee cup tighter. “I’m sure you’re well aware of the changes that have been happening in my line of work.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t play the fool. You know we’re moving away from the skin trade just like I know you’re buying up a bunch of motels.” My eyes narrow this time. “I’m not here for games.”
“Fine. Continue.”
“I can’t fix what my father broke, but I can help the people who come into my care. The problem is, a lot of them need expensive help and aren’t willing to stay in the hospital. I can cover medical bills and drugs, but sometimes it feels like it’s easier on the victims if they don’t have to have everything put on their record. So I want a direct supply to help those people with whatever they need. Painkillers. Medication. Some of these people will need help for the rest of their lives, and I need a way for them to be cared for that doesn’t leave a paper trail, as many of these people also want to disappear.”
Cormac is silent, studying me over the edge of his cup. Then he lowers it and fixes me with a steady stare. “You’re asking for a lot.”
“Too much for you to handle?” I challenge.
“Not at all. We can work something out. But I want something in return.”
“Naturally.”
“You’re getting into the construction game.”
“I am.”
“Well, as it turns out, those motels you mentioned need renovation and I need a good deal. A discount, if you will.”
His question, while hidden, is as clear as day. “I’m sure we can work something out,” I reply. “So, do we have a deal?”
Cormac glances at his watch and then nods. “I’ll have my people call your people.”
“Thank you.”
We stand, and he offers me his hand. “Be careful, Anastasia. I know better than anyone that change brings out the worst in people.”
I accept his handshake with a brief, tight smile. “I’ll be fine. Take care.”
Cormac leaves as quietly as he arrived, and the weight across my shoulders eases slightly. The finer details will be tough to hash out, but we have the makings of something good. I just hope it pans out.
I head back up to Tanya’s room where I left Erik to stand guard. His attention is glued to his phone, and I glimpse the hospital security cameras on the screen before he flips his phone away.
“How did it go?” Erik asks, running his eyes over me.
“You had a front-row seat,” I remark. “What do you think?”
“I don’t trust him.”
Humorless laughter escapes me in a huff. “I don’t trust him either, but it’s a deal that will benefit us both.”
“You think he will hold up his end?”
“Maybe.” A beat of exhaustion suddenly washes over me, and when I look back at Erik, his brows are pinched in concern. “I’m fine. I’m tired.”
“You’re doing a good thing here, Anastasia.”
“Am I? For each person I save, my father sentenced hundreds more to a lifetime of cruelty and I was complicit.”