Page 26 of Rogue

For a second, I relax back into my chair, thinking about Margot’s words. Nothing is impossible to a willing heart.

But what about a broken one?

No, I’ve wasted two days drinking my pain away. I count to ten then swing into motion, jumping out of my chair to remove two plastic bottles of highly flammable hydrogen peroxide off the shelf, which I then stash inside the satchel I bought for the occasion, before sliding another bottle over to hide the empty space made by the missing product. I don’t have a firm plan in place for my stolen goods as of yet. But I’ve made do with less volatile chemicals.

Yeah, Diego would be proud.

Jaxson . . . well, I really don’t know what he’d think. A long time ago, he’d been bemused by my antics. But now, nothing is certain.

A beautician comes and washes my processed hair. Then I grab my gear and am led to the front of the shop, where Margot takes over, trimming my hair into a messy yet fashionable bob and oohing and ahhing over my blond head like an artist does to a completed masterpiece .

Before I depart, we exchange Parisian kisses. Two air kisses near the right cheek, two to the left.

“Thanks for everything,” I say, adjusting the arms of the much heavier satchel across my shoulder.

“What do you Americans like to say?” Margot hollers after me as I head out into the bustling street. “Ahoui. . . he’s going to die when he sees you.”

He just might, I think.

And it won’t be the first time.

I work my way back to Montparnasse, making Francis’s task of tracking then siccing Novák’s men on me that much easier. Carefully, I repeat my actions, buying a cell phone, settling myself down at a corner cafe, and ordering a café au lait. Then I make my call.

“Kylie?” Francis answers, sounding wiped out. Either I’ve woken him up or he’s been partying. “You okay?” he asks, like he’s surprised Iamokay.

“Never been better,” I tell him. “Any news on Novák?”

“No,” he answers far too quickly.

“You understand that I’m going to kill him, right?”

“Um, yeah. You’ve been obsessing over it since we first met.”

I blink. For a moment, he sounds like the old guy I knew, a hesitant man who always seemed surprised by my actions. My partner. My friend. But I know better.

“Any information on who’s been sent after me?” I ask, curious if he knows about Jaxson.

“No. Hayden pulled me off the job.”

What?“When?”

“A few weeks ago.”

I scowl at the phone. “I called you three days ago. You mean you’re no longer involved with TORC?”

“You hung up before I could tell you.” Silence fills the line as he hesitates before continuing. “Hayden said he’ll call me. I’m not allowed back at the Ranch unless he does. Somehow, he found out about my snorting a bit of coke with Franco.”

Of course he did, you moron.Despite my not liking the accusation in his tone, I ignore it. Too caught up in the sudden thought that maybe Hayden has figured out who the real traitor is.

And Novák? Are you still working for him?I feel like asking but keep my trap shut.

Patience.

“So you don’t know who he’s sent?”You don’t know about Jaxson?

“No. My guess is it’ll be Declan. That’s his thing, tracking and quietly terminating his targets.”

I feel my shoulders relax. It’s not what Francis has said directly that lightens my burden. It’s what he obviously doesn’t know. Declan had his turn at terminating me and passed. Smart man. A gun. A woman desperate to survive. A man worried the gun held against his crotch by the desperate woman will indeed maim his man-jewels, turning them into little jewels.