Page 104 of Shallow

Cary

“Idon’t know.He’s gone off the rails. Sayin’ crazy shit about how he’s gonna burn down the center because he can’t burn down the police station with her init.”

I raise an eyebrow, and Frankie’s grip tightens on the phone as he gives me an exasperated shrug. It’s a little on the dramatic side, but I’ll cut him some slack since the last twenty-four hours haven’t exactly beenstable.

“Yeah, says she’s fucked up his life and he wants to see herfry.”

Okay, that’s a little over the top. I open my mouth to shut him up when he shoves his hand in myface.

“He’s at the center. You will?” He gives me the thumbs-up sign as a huge smile breaks across his face. “Thanks! I’ll keep him busy until you get here.” As soon as he hangs up, his smile fades as realization of what’s he’s done setsin.

Frankie’s no pussy, but I’ve roped him into some serious shit. The perfect trap for the perfectcrime.

Unfortunately for Taryn, there’s no such thing as the perfect crime. Even if everyone gets paid off, there’s that onetthat never gets crossed, or that one rogueithat never gets dotted. Eventually, every criminal fucks up. That’s why I’m not breaking a sweat. Not when I’ve been chasing this moment since leaving Shiloh lastnight.

The bitch knew I’d come for her. It’s the only explanation as to why I tore across town after leaving the police station to find her house dark and empty. I even parked at the end of her street and sat in my car until damn near dawn waiting for her, but she nevershowed.

Either she’s already fucking some other unsuspecting asshole, or she’s hiding out. If I was a betting man, I’d say it’s probablyboth.

Frankie’s pacing in front of me, chewing on his thumbnail like it’s his last meal. I roll my eyes toward the window and blow out a frustrated breath. We closed the center early and now it’s pitch-black outside—probably well after ten o’clock. We’ve gone over this at least a dozen times, and each time he’s gnawed a different nail until it bled. I’m starting to worry about him cracking under pressure. She’s not stupid. With Frankie devouring his fingernails like a mid-day snack, he’ll give us away in aheartbeat.

“What if this backfires on us?” he mumbles around histhumb.

“It’s not going to backfire as long as you keep your hands in your pocket. Come on, junior, focus. We have one shot at this. Play it just like we rehearsed, gotit?”

“Got it.” Henods.

I scrub my hands down my face, physically exhausted from lack of sleep and the unrelenting stabbing pain in my gut. I feel like I’m choking on my own blood every time I think about her walking away from meyesterday.

She was begging me to tell her the truth, but how the hell do you tell the woman you’ve loved all your life that you made a pact with the devil to destroy her? Got off on it. Lived for it until living for her changed therules.

The answer is that you can’t. The minute I told her the truth, she would’ve shut down, slamming the door on me, our future, her future, and any hope I have of clearing her name. And that’s just the truth about Taryn. Telling her about how I added embezzlement to my list of offenses wasn’t even anoption.

I had no choice but to keep quiet and hope once this is over she can find a way to forgive me. I found a way to forgive her. Doesn’t one sin cancel out theother?

What’s that saying? Tit for tat, or someshit?

Frankie moves in front of me and chews on his thumb again. “I don’t think she’s gonna crack over gettin’ some dick, boss. This bitch is gonna want a blood pact and a virgin sacrifice, know what I’msayin’?”

Just the idea makes my balls shrivel up. “First of all, I wouldn’t touch her with your dick. Secondly, you might be right. Know where I can find avirgin?”

Frankie cocks his head to the side. “If I knew where to find a virgin, do you think I’d be here getting ready to pull some fucked-up shit withyou?”

* * *

It’sten thirty and the center is quiet. Almost too quiet. Nothing hashappened.

Pace.

Check theclock.

Pace.

Check theclock.

I have no idea when Taryn’s going to show up and it’s starting to get tome.

When a woman says she’ll “be right there,” there’s a wide spectrum of time that phrase encompasses. When a man says he’ll “be right there,” get your shit together because he’s probably three blocks away with a six pack and a bag of Doritos. A woman’s interpretation can mean anything from half an hour to, “I hope you’re not starving because I’m going to try on every piece of clothing I own and then cry for four fuckinghours.”