Deception, page 4
He ground his jaw in annoyance and fixed his laser eyes on me.
I nearly lost my courage but went on after he didn’t lash out at me. “Are you going to kill me?”
His face lost some of its fierceness, and he looked almost sad. I took that as a bad sign, and my heart dropped into a free fall.
Note to self: find a way out of here sooner rather than later.
He avoided my eyes and looked over my shoulder instead. “You need to get to work.”
He stood up, and I followed without argument.
“Hasta luego, Mariana. Gracias por la comida.”
I thanked Mariana and hoped I didn’t screw up the Spanish phrase I’d been practicing with Santino who’d reluctantly told me how to say good-bye and thank you for my meal during our short walks. Judging by her expression, I must have done something right, because she clapped her hands in delight.
“Hasta luego, guapa.” She put her hand on my arm when I walked past her. “Todo va a salir bien.”
I nodded at her and followed Santino out of the kitchen and back to my cell, aka office.
Chapter 6
Lucius
I was finally sleeping more than a few hours every couple of days. The relief I felt at being able to close my eyes and drift off was enough to make me lie down next to Everleigh every night. We both stayed on our sides of the bed, and I was gone well before she usually woke up.
“Your aim is off.”
Santino’s voice cut through my thoughts. The still body of the dummy stared at me mockingly. I’d missed the center of his chest by an inch.
I flipped Santino the bird. “Fuck off. He’d still be dead.”
The truth, but I still wasn’t shooting as well as I should have.
Santino raised a brow at me. “You’re not concentrating. And if I had to take a guess, your mind is on our guest, not the target.”
Grinding my teeth, I glared at him. We both knew he was right. Didn’t mean I’d admit it out loud. We might have been best friends once, but a lot happened while I’d been gone. He wasn’t the same person I’d left behind. Just like I wasn’t either.
But we both fought to find our way back to the friendship we once had. Trust was still fragile between us, and I had my suspicions that he was reporting my every move to Maurizio. But this was all temporary. And leaving him a second time—which was exactly what I was planning to do—wouldn’t go down well.
I should have tried harder to find a way to get him to leave with me last time. But he’d been too loyal back then and loved the life we lived. Maurizio had taken him in when he was a little boy, and we grew up together. Became brothers. Did everything together.
This was the only home he’d ever known. He wouldn’t have left without a good reason. And I didn’t blame him. But I also couldn’t stay.
My desire to leave had been greater than our bond, and one night I’d disappeared without a word. I didn’t regret leaving. I regretted not doing it sooner.
But having regrets didn’t help me accomplish what I came here to do. And lamenting about past mistakes wouldn’t help me make decisions in the present, only delay them.
“She’s interesting. She’s already put our accounts back in order. She also made improvements that mean we don’t have to worry about our money disappearing again.”
Santino studied me, his face giving nothing away. In this world, emotions got you killed. “Don’t let anyone else hear you talk like that. She’s on borrowed time.”
It was nothing I wasn’t aware of. But his words still pulled at me, reminding me that I had to find a way to get her out fast or it would be too late. As soon as she wasn’t useful anymore, Maurizio wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of her. “I know. Now, are we doing this, or do you want to ask me about my hopes and dreams as well?”
Two things that were on short supply in this world.
It was his turn to flip me off, and we turned back to the dummies. There was a time when we used to go hunting in the jungle to improve our aim. But nobody was allowed out of the compound without a small army. Maurizio had made too many enemies.
I just hoped one of them would be skilled enough to take him out.
Though what his death would mean for me wasn’t something I liked to think about.
We kept practicing for another hour, switching from dummies to moving targets. Santino’s aim was true, never missing a mark. Once I pushed thoughts of a certain blue-eyed girl away, my aim improved as well.
Not having Maurizio breathing down my neck all day improved my mood significantly. He still checked in every hour, but phone calls were a far better way to communicate than watching him lord over everyone from his ridiculous throne.
I fought the urge to check in on Everleigh on the way to my office. It was already hard to ignore my feelings for her; being around her any more than I had to was dangerous.
Once in my office, I checked for bugs, as usual finding a few. I left them where they were, making sure nobody had added cameras to my surveillance as well.
My burner phone was safely stored in my bedroom, the one place I’d cleared of bugs the first day I returned. I also checked it every day, even though nobody had access to my room but me. But safety and privacy in this compound were an illusion. If Maurizio wanted to get inside my room, he would. But so far, he’d ignored my small act of rebellion.
He knew I was aware of what he was doing, and he was getting impatient. His constant need to check in proofed of my suspicions that he might have welcomed me back but didn’t think I was loyal anymore.
Nobody ever accused him of being stupid. I still couldn’t figure out why he would give me back my previous position. He hadn’t had a second the whole time I’d been gone. I’d been sure he’d appoint Santino. But while my former best friend was in charge of a lot of the operations, he’d never gained the official position.
Something else that made reconnecting with Santino more difficult. He said nothing about it, but he must have felt resentment at being moved down the ladder after my return.
I’d barely sat down when the first person stormed in with a trivial issue. My office was never empty. Something else I was sure was Maurizio’s doing. He wanted eyes on me. And since I would have found any cameras, he had to use his men.
I finally escaped when everyone was busy with dinner. Retrieving my burner phone from my room, I went to the edge of the cliffs the property sat on. They weren’t all that high, but it was enough to stop anyone from accessing or leaving via the water.
Dense vegetation covered most of the region, and I easily slipped behind some bushes and trees, sitting at the edge of the cliff. The water churned beneath my feet. Sofie would have loved it here.
Thinking of what I’d left behind reminded me why I was doing all of this in the first place. For her. Because she deserved better.
I powered up my phone, scrolling down to the only contact in it. CIA Officer Harris answered after the first ring.
“About time you called.”
His gruff voice sounded through the speaker. He’d been my handler since I’d returned. A chain-smoker with a bullshit radar that could rival a lie detector. I’d come to appreciate working with him.
He was direct, didn’t tolerate screwups, and pushed until he got what he wanted. These traits didn’t always benefit me, but more often than not, they meant he did everything he could to help me out.
“I couldn’t get away. I think Maurizio suspects something.”
“He’d be stupid not to. Anyone would be suspicious about their long-lost son showing back up after seven years.”
Yeah, there was that. “You have any more info?”
“I found your guy.”
The words made me sit up, body stilling. This was it. Would I finally be able to put this to rest? “Where?”
“You won’t like it. And he won’t be easy to get to. But lucky for you I have a job I need you to do that will get you a step closer.”
“Tell me.”
And Officer Harris finally gave me the name of the man who killed my friend.
Chapter 7
Everleigh
Every day during my first week followed the same pattern. I spent all day in the office adding up numbers and sorting out accounts, then used the last hour to unsuccessfully hack into their hard drives. I had to at least try finding something, refusing to stop looking for Archer even while I was a captive.
Santino followed me everywhere, so looking around the compound wasn’t an option at the moment.
I chatted with Mariana during breakfast and dinner—me in English, her in Spanish, but somehow we communicated—and fell asleep in the closet and woke up in bed, surrounded by Lucius’s scent.
That morning we were on our way to the office when someone came running up to Santino. After a rapid-fire conversation in Spanish and a mumbled “Behave” thrown my way, he dropped the keys to the office into my hand and was gone.
I knew the way to the kitchen and the office by now, but it felt strange walking by myself. I was excited because my newfound freedom meant I could finally explore the grounds, but also scared because there were a lot of guards. None of them looked like they would ask questions first and shoot later.
Nevertheless, I walked down a hall I knew wouldn’t lead me to the office. I counted three dining rooms, five bathrooms, and at least as many bedrooms on my way. All had bars on the windows.
I finally found a living room. A patio door led outside into the expansive garden. I tried the handle, my hands damp and shaky. Locked. There were also heavily armed guards standing outside. I backed up, deciding not to test my luck further.
After rounding a few unfamiliar corners, it became obvious that I didn’t know where I was. I should have paid better attention, but I was too nervous to make sure I knew where I was going. I’d always been directionally challenged.
My search for the way back to the office ended at a winter garden. There were plants of various sizes in pots all around the room. It had a glass ceiling, and three sides were made out of glass. The sun felt wonderful on my skin. It was the closest I’d come to being outside since coming here, and I soaked up the light as if it were oxygen.
Bending down, I looked at a bright pink flower, running a finger over the edges of the petals.
I was getting back up when someone grabbed my neck harshly. I was stuck in an awkward half crouch, unable to move. “Cabrona. ¿Que haces aqui?”
The voice sent a wave of terror through me. I glanced up, and the gleam in the guy’s eyes was terrifying. The grip he had on my neck was enough to make my breathing laborious.
What was I thinking, wandering around by myself?
“I don’t think you’re allowed to walk by yourself, no?” His threat was obvious, but I had nothing to say in response. We both knew I wasn’t supposed to be here.
He pushed me down on the ground and held me against the cold tiles. I didn’t make a sound, too scared to move a muscle. Nobody had ever laid a hand on me. I was frozen, immobile, stunned. My breathing became erratic; my heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest and run away screaming.
“My silence will cost you.” He licked the side of my face, and a tear fell. His breath was stale, and he smelled of cigarettes. I nearly gagged when he roughly grabbed one of my breasts. He pinched my nipple hard, and a little cry escaped me. He seemed to enjoy it and did it again, harder this time. “You want more, do you?”
No, I most definitely did not want more. But I wasn’t dumb enough to point that out.
I closed my eyes, pretending I was somewhere else. I was frozen in fear, the thought of fighting back not even occurring to me. I was pathetic. I was ashamed. I was weak. The square root of 798 is 28. The square root of 365 is 19.
His hand wandered down my body. I jerked in his hold, causing him to tighten his grip. Breathing became a struggle. He ignored my wheezing breaths, instead squashing my head against the tile. I prayed for him to stop. I never thought this would happen to me. I’d always been so careful. Guarded. Never went home with a stranger. Parked in well-lit and safe areas.
The sound of footsteps approaching stopped the wandering hand, but nobody came inside. He squeezed my throat one last time before releasing me. “I’ll see you soon, cabrona.”
I stayed on the floor for a long time, unable to move except for the tremors racking my body. When I finally pushed myself up to a sitting position, my legs were asleep and I coaxed them to hold me when I stood up.
The fear of suffering a worse fate if someone noticed I wasn’t where I was supposed to be made me finally stand up. My throat was sore from the pressure he’d applied, and I was unsteady on my feet. The way back to the office was a blur. I took random turns and hoped for the best. I eventually found a hallway I recognized and made it back without running into anyone.
I cleaned myself up in the bathroom adjoining the office as best as my shaking hands would allow. A look in the mirror revealed the hand-shaped bruises already forming around my throat. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair tangled. I half-heartedly brushed my trembling hands through it.
Once I was sitting on my chair, it took me a while to pull myself together enough to work. I made stupid mistakes and had to fix them. I took too long to add up numbers that should have come easily to me. I lost time—time I didn’t have.
A knock interrupted the frantic laps to nowhere my brain was doing. Santino appeared in the doorway. As soon as he saw me, his face transformed into a mask of fury. I flinched, wondering if he’d found out about my little excursion.
He stomped up to my desk, placing his hands on it and leaning over it. “Who did this?”
I melted into my seat, grappling for words. My hand went to my throat. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him.”
His eyes narrowed, and he focused his attention on my neck. “What did he look like?”
“Dark hair, taller than me, Spanish accent,” I stuttered, his wrath engulfing the room, holding me in a tight grip.
That described most the guys working for Maurizio. But my face had been turned away the whole time, and the only thing I was sure about had been the revolting smell of cigarettes and his stale breath on my face.
With a growl, Santino pushed off the desk and turned his back to me. “Come. You’ve already been in here longer than you should have.”
After a tense and fast-paced walk where I had to run to catch up to Santino’s long strides, he deposited me in front of my room. I placed a shaking hand on the sensor, my handprint unlocking the door.
Santino watched me walk inside. “Stay inside, lock the door.”
I didn’t have to be told twice and locked the door as soon as it closed. Not wasting time, I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the water as hot as I could stand. The shower had become my refuge, closely followed by the closet.
Huddling in the corner under the warm spray, I shivered despite the scalding water encasing me. I dragged myself off the floor when the water had run cold. A glance in the mirror confirmed what I’d already guessed. I had bruises on my body, the worst one around my throat.
I set up my bed in the closet and curled up underneath the blanket. Sleep didn’t come easily, but thankfully the darkness found me eventually and I sank into blissful oblivion.
A steady stream of new clothes and little trinkets kept showing up in my room. It started with a few clothes. Then a hair clip. Nail polish. Conditioner. And not the cheap stuff either.
It had been two days since the incident, and I was more careful than ever.
I was hesitant to leave the room, the dread in my stomach intensifying as soon as I put my hand on the doorknob. But I didn’t have a choice. The man I was more scared of than my tormentor was due back in two days. And Maurizio wasn’t someone who would grant extensions.
Santino had been quietly brooding, talking even less than usual. But since I was all out of words, I didn’t mind.
I dropped onto my usual stool in the kitchen, mumbling a “Buenos dias” to Mariana. A hand gently cupped my cheek, and I looked at her friendly but frowning face. She inspected my neck, carefully prodding it. I winced but stayed otherwise silent. She’d been applying a cream to my bruises, and they had turned an ugly green-brown.
Santino talked to Mariana, his words clipped and his tone angry. That seemed to be his only mood lately—pissed.
After a tense and rushed breakfast, where every bite felt like needles going down my throat, he walked me to the office and left. I spent my day going over more numbers, making slow progress.
I didn’t stop for dinner, and Mariana came in to drop off my food. It remained untouched, and Santino took the plate with him when he picked me up.
He held up the plate of empanadas. “You need to eat.”
They were my favorite, something Mariana knew. From what I understood, she was from Argentina. She loved to cook traditional Argentinian food, and I usually loved to eat it. But today even eating seemed too exhausting. “I’m not hungry.”
My throat also still hurt, so breakfast had been a painful enough experience for me.
Santino pushed the plate into my hands when we made it to my room. “Eat.”
As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I heard his retreating footsteps. I slumped against the door and slid to the floor, plate clutched in my hand. My body burned with the desire to go home. To get out of this prison.
The incident at the pool made me realize how shaky my position here was.
I rested my head against the wood, finally letting my tears flow. I wasn’t usually much of a crier, but I’d done more of it in the past two weeks than in the past ten years.
“Crying won’t help. It’ll make you appear weak,” a familiar voice said.
I startled, dropping the plate and spilling all the food on the gleaming floor. The tears immediately stopped, and I stiffly looked up at a tight-faced Lucius.
How did I not notice someone else was in the room with me?
