She was sharper than she let on.Defensive, sure, but only because she’d spent too long having to fight her way clear of people like George.I recognized the same operating system; it was easier to break something yourself than risk having it stolen.
Every time she smiled, even if it was just to mock me, something happened in my chest.
I closed my eyes and let the feeling crest, then forced myself to shut it down.I had enough distractions already.
The phone vibrated on the bed.A text from Dan: “We got all the footage we could from the Mayday’s security system.”
Maydays were the friends Ljuba had been staying with because of her nightmares.If George or anyone else was following Ljuba, we might get a hit on one of the cameras.
I replied: “Thanks.Tell Ljuba I said hi.”
Then I shut off the phone and let myself lie back on the lumpy mattress, staring at the ceiling.The light fixture above me buzzed with an angry insect trapped inside the dome, and the whole room smelled faintly of bleach and loneliness.
I could call Nadya.Hopefully, she’d pick up, maybe tease me about being an early bird.I almost did it.Thumb hovered over her number, index finger poised to hit call.
But I didn’t.It was too soon, and I didn’t trust myself not to fuck it up.
Chapter 10
Nadya
THE WORST PART WASN’Twriting it all down.It was carrying the envelope through Brooklyn; every word inside like a splinter I could feel under my skin.I kept it in my bag, then clutched it to my ribs, then shoved it back in the bag, then pulled it out again.The manila edge went soft at the corners from my sweaty hands.
The coffee shop was smaller than I remembered.Too many tables, all jammed with people, so you had to squeeze between laptop zombies and stroller-wielding parents just to reach the back.It smelled like scorched espresso and burnt toast, which fit my mood perfectly.
Nick sat at a corner table with a view of both the entrance and the register.He wore jeans and a gray crewneck but still looked like someone who could take down a terrorist cell with a ballpoint pen and a bad mood.His hands dwarfed the paper cup he was holding as he watched me approach, but not in the way that made me self-conscious.Maybe it had less to do with the way he looked at me and more to do with this strange melty feeling I got every time I saw him.Having his undivided attention did things to me.
Would he still look at me this way after reading everything?
I thought about walking back out, but he had already seen me, so I’d only look like a coward if I tried to turn around now.So, I sat, dumped my bag on the chair next to me, and immediately realized I hadn’t ordered anything.
“I’ll go get—” I started.
“Already got you something,” Nick said, and slid a cup across the table.“It’s got, uh, two sugars and a shot of vanilla.Or so I instructed the guy at the counter.”
I blinked.“How did you know that’s my order?”
