Nothing to do but wait.
Chapter 57
My stomach growled and I was parched. I hadn’t gotten up from my seat at the table, refusing to engage in this pissing contest with Winters. I knew I’d win—the bastard didn’t have a trump card. But I did.
Eventually, I put my head on the table and dozed. When I came to, I was still alone. And with a full bladder. I needed to use the facilities and quickly or I was in danger of giving away my pregnancy.
I grinned, hoping the bastard could see me through the cameras he was no doubt watching. It was time to end this once and for all.
“You win,” I said, lifting my head from the table. “I’ll talk.”
I counted to five. And then I counted to ten. Just when I thought I had misjudged the situation, the door opened and Winters strolled in, looking relaxed, as if all the anger he’d thrown at me before was gone.
“Hungry?” he asked, placing a wrapped sandwich in front of me along with a bottle of water.
I reached for it, but my hands were still shackled. Winters released me. I went for the sandwich, unwrapping it and looking between the bread slices. Ham and Swiss. Not my favorite, but I’d make do. I chewed while watching Winters take a seat across from me. He politely waited for me to finish my meal. Discreetly wiping my mouth with a napkin, I set aside the plastic wrap, grabbed the water bottle, and took a drink. It took all of my willpower not to wet my pants, but damn if I was going to ask to use the bathroom.
“Thanks,” I said, my hand staying around the water bottle.
He inclined his head and folded his hands and rested them on the table. “You said you were ready to talk.”
I smiled. “I lied.”
Winters sighed.
“You think you can keep me here for an extended period and I’ll just become malleable? Laughable, really.” I chuckled. “Tell me what you want, Winters. I gave you Marino and it wasn’t enough. Apparently.”
Winters’s face didn’t change, but I knew I could get him to show his anger. “Ah, let me take a stab at it then,” I said, when he remained silent. “Marinoalivewould’ve been enough, but he’s dead and it was your operation. Is your superior breathing down your neck? How am I doing?” I asked, twisting the verbal knife, holding in a grin. Winters’s nostrils were flaring, his jaw was clenched, but still he said nothing.
“You don’t really believe I killed Dolinsky, do you? Just a straw you’re grasping at.” Finally, I stood and moved to the door.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Well, let’s see. I’ve been held in this room for God knows how long, and I have to use the restroom.”
He glared, but rose.
“How lovely, an escort.”
We walked through the room of agents, dying sunlight streaming through the large windows. I’d been in this place for most of the day. Winters had confiscated my phone, and I had no way of knowing if he dismantled my ability to be tracked. It didn’t matter. Brad and Sasha had ways of hacking anything and could find Winters if they needed. I wasn’t shocked that they hadn’t shown up yet. Everything in its time.
Winters stopped in front of a wooden door with a woman icon on it. “Five minutes,” he said. “Or I’m coming in after you. Don’t lock the door.”
I rolled my eyes. “You think I can find a way out through the airshaft in five minutes? Give me a break.”
I did my business and then washed my hands, touching the cool water to my cheeks. Nausea was roiling through me, and I had no idea if it was due to the sandwich I’d eaten, the tamping down of extreme emotion, or morning sickness that was becoming afternoon sickness. A knock sounded on the door. My five minutes were up. Drying my hands, I opened the door, my FBI escort waiting with his arms crossed over his chest.
As we walked back toward the desks, I refused to give him the satisfaction of asking if I’d be staying the night in this luxurious place. Striding in silence, a slow smile spread across my face when I saw two men waiting for us.
“Took you long enough,” I teased.
An appreciative grin spread across his face. “Good to see you too, love.” My husband’s blue gaze sharpened when he looked at Winters. “Allow me to introduce you to Barrett’s lawyer, Allen Masterson, the best criminal defense attorney in the country.”
“Criminal,” Winters stated.
“Why has my client been detained for the past eight hours without so much as a phone call?”
“Let’s go inside—” Winters gestured to the room I’d been held in, but Masterson cut him off.
