Page 6 of Erik

“Natasha, he’s not gonna kick you out. I heard Jerry talking to him about it when I went by yesterday. You’re also not the only person in trouble right now, according to the maids. Just sit down and have a serious conversation about it when he gets back.” The elevator stopped when Marshal went quiet, but I wasn’t convinced in the slightest. I knew Carlyle would try to reinforce himself in some way— he made Illya rip off her own toenails, for fuck’s sake! He personally killed at least ten people that I knew of, not including all those gang members in Dallas or . . . the ones in the basement.

Not that they lasted long.

“If I do, I’m okay with it.” Shaking my head as I stepped off the metal box, I stuffed my hands in my coat pocket and felt for my keys and wallet. “That’s all.”

“If you do, you have your Airbnb’s, right? And they’re a lot, you said. You don’t necessarily have to get a new job. You can just live off that. Maybe, get a hobby? You’re a great cook. You can always take cooking classes and stuff.” Fred’s suggestions earned a faint hum from me, and I flopped my head back to sigh heavily. I loved to cook, but what good was any food I made if no one was around to eat it?

“Natasha! Hey, wait up a second.” Twisting as Jerry came striding down behind us from a different hallway, I frowned as nerves tingled my fingertips. He held Erik’s bugged jacket over his arm, and prickles raced down my spine. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second? Just really quick.”

“Yeah.” He smiled reassuringly, and I wrung my fingers as Fred and Marshal shuffled a few feet away just to stand around and eavesdrop. “If it’s about the jacket, I’m not gon—"

“Well, it kinda is. Actually, it was Carlyle’s suggestion. He says you can keep it if you want to get a little revenge somehow.” My eyebrows nearly flew off my face at that, and Jerry slipped his hands into his jean pockets to duck his head suggestively. “I know a tiny bit of what you’ve been through. I told him I’d take the blame because it got through the front doors, and it wasn’t supposed to. I don’t understand, and maybe that’s a good thing, but I figured since we knew about the bug, and you’re pretty trustworthy, that you might wanna mess with the guy a bit.”

“I . . . I don’t get how I’m supposed to mess with the guy. What am I gonna do? Fuck a guy on the jacket? Um, no.” Jerry shrugged, not the least bit affected by my question, and I frowned when he handed me the previously incarcerated jacket. “Thanks, Jerry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Carlyle thought the police might get stupid about the bomb, so he prepared for something like this. Even though it wasn’t connected to Carlyle, the timing was just all messed up, and there was no real escalation. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, Natasha. You can press this button here to turn it on and off.” Nodding as Jerry slunk off the short distance to disappear around the corner, I exhaled a shaky breath as my heart thundered against my ribs.

Revenge.I got my revenge. I didn’t want to get dragged down that dark, mucky road again.

Inhaling deeply through flared nostrils, my sternum popped from the sudden pressure, and I rolled my shoulders and straightened myself. I’d worry about it later. Right now, I was going to celebrate the fact that I finished those stupid program bones. Whirling around, I nodded more to myself than Fred or Marshal, and they kept their curiosity above their noses.

“Um, let’s go. I’m starving for something cheesy and greasy.” Pulling the thick, industrial jacket over my shoulders, I fingered the button installed in the collar absently. “I’m gonna turn it on, though, so no more talking about Carlyle.”

“Fine with me—” Holding up a finger to my lips, I pressed down to hear a faintclick, and Fred scrunched up his face in the ominous silence. “Anyway, the important thing is you got the infrastructure done. Okay, we can slack a little until Valerie gets back, but then it’s all hands, Natasha.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you said that already.” Pushing open the door, I gasped as the wind bit at my cheeks instantly, and I zipped up the jacket to pull my arms in. Even with two coats, a sweater, and a long sleeve shirt, it wasfrigid— it was too damn cold even to snow. Glancing around the lot, I started toward Marshal’s car, and his key’s jingle rode the harsh breeze.

“We should go to Buckley’s. It’s been a long, long time, and we used to go there every day.”

6

Erik

“I’mtellingyou, Remmy, this isn’t right. It’s been a week of dead silence, and suddenly it starts up again? Even if she just threw it in the back of her closet, that microphone should’ve still picked things up.” Irritation simmered in my blood, and it only intensified when Remmy cast me a disapproving frown like I saw only what I wanted to see. “I guarantee you that they found it. I fuckingguaranteeit. And I’m done with your glory crusade. This whole thing was a failure from the beginning.”

“Erik, we’ll at least go inside and assess whether or not she knows. If she doesn’t, you need to un-bunch your panties. If she does, I’ll admit defeat.”You’re a fucking cop, you asshole. You’re not supposed to be persecuting people who don’t deserve it, let alone failing miserably at it.Scowling darkly as I popped open the door, I shook my head roughly as I stalked to the sidewalk. The bitterly cold chill seeped through my original, issued coat, and I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets to hide my fists.

Shouldering open the glass door to Buckley’s Pizza Parlor, I headed for the takeaway counter, and the teenager behind it smiled brightly at me.

“Hey, yeah, can I get two slices of pepperoni, one sausage, and two bottles of water.” Fishing my wallet out, I handed her a ten-dollar bill, and I rocked back on my heels to scan the restaurant. Natasha and her two co-workers were in a booth against the back of the place, and I held my breath and pursed my lips in apprehension. She looked like an entirely different person when she was clothed, her hair and makeup done lightly. Big, brown eyes met mine above the heads of seated patrons, and I offered a wave before a metallic clink stole my attention.

Guilt clawed at my throat, and my appetite fled as my gut rotted with the knowledge of what I’d done. Folding the two dollars I’d gotten back in change, I tensed at the soft, long fingers wrapping around my elbow, and Natasha rubbed up against my side. Her curves muffled by the layers and layers of clothes we both wore, and I glanced over as she looked up at me from under thick lashes.

The second I met her eyes, I knew she knew, and I clenched my jaw hard as my eyelid twitched in agitation.

“I hope you’re committed, Erik.” Natasha reached to tap my chest with an unadorned nail, and I frowned at the darkness that flashed in her eyes. “Why’d you do it? Oh, wait . . . you were probably ordered to, right? Because the bombhasto be connected to Carlyle. It’s not like we’re capable of having demons chasing us.”

“Natasha—” My attempt to speak earned me a frown, and I scratched my neck with my free hand as I struggled to think of something to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Cool. Do you wanna know a secret?” My stubble bristled when she lifted herself onto her toes, her nonchalance turning icy, and my eyelids fluttered as her warm breath rolled down my collar. “I killed my mom. You can arrest me now, but you’ll just have to let me go because you’ll never get any evidence. Or . . . you can listen in, and I’ll tell you the story of ‘why.’ It’s up to you. You wanted this, Erik.”

“Natasha—” She held a slender finger to my lips when I turned to her fully, and my eyes widened in shock when she reached up to press a button where the bug should’ve been.Does that mean nothing she just said was recorded?

“It’s up to you.” All I could do was stand there, frozen, as Natasha sauntered off back to her table, and I blinked hard. Did that really just happen? She admitted to murder, but no one else could have heard her, and the fucking microphone had a brand-spankin’-new on/off switch. Turning back to the counter slowly, I gazed dazedly at the edge as my brain worked a mile a minute.

That was why the bug went dead for a week— they found it almost immediately, and they devised a plan to fucking toy with us.

“Officer—” Snapping out of my daze, I grabbed the box and both waters, and I shot Natasha one final look before heading out. She didn’t look satisfied. Now that she wasn’t so far, I could see how . . . how sad and alone and distanced she was from her coworkers. The way she moved and smiled was robotic, and I pursed my lips thinly as self-disgust threatened to spew from my mouth.