"Tash—"
"Nothing else, Val. No names. Patrick won't touch you tonight—he needs you functional. Where's the body?"
"Living room. There's so much blood, I'm—" My voice cracks. "I'm kneeling in it, Tash, I can't—"
"Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Do it now."
I try. The air shudders in and out of my lungs.
"Good. Keep breathing. Get Ethan to call 911. Tell them what I said—robbery, your dad fought back. I'm coming to you."
"He wants me to spy on Lev Volkov." I'm crying again, can't stop. "I don't know how to do that, I don't—"
"You're a strong woman, Val. You are stubborn enough to be my friend when others dared not even look my way." Something fierce enters her voice. "That means you're stronger than you know. Patrick made a mistake underestimating you. We'll figure this out together."
"What if I can't—"
"You will. Because the alternative is watching your brother die, and you won't let that happen." She pauses. "I'm ten minutes away. Hold on, Val. Just hold on."
She hangs up.
I sit there in my father's blood, phone pressed to my chest, and try to remember how to breathe.
Through the roaring in my ears, I hear Ethan move. Hear him call 911, his voice high and breaking as he tells them there's been a shooting, please come, please hurry.
Mom's still rocking Dad's body, still making that awful sound.
And I can't stop staring at the wall, at the pattern of blood and brain matter, at what used to be my father.
Three months.
Three months to become someone I'm not. To infiltrate a potentially dangerous man’s home and gather intelligence that will get him killed. Three months before Patrick murders everyone I love.
The burner phone buzzes in my hand.
I don't want to look at it, but I do.
Don't disappoint me, Valerie. You have so much to lose. Tomorrow, you will be given everything you need to successfully get into the Volkov Estate.
I close my eyes and press my bloody hands against my face, and let myself break apart.
Because in three months, when Patrick uses whatever I give him to murder Lev Volkov, my father's blood won't be the only blood on my hands.
And I don't know how I'm supposed to live with that.
But I don't have a choice.
Patrick O'Rourke owns me now.
Chapter one
Valerie
There’s no going back now.
My head keeps ringing as the car pulls to a stop.
The gates stand twelve feet tall and are topped with iron spikes that look like they could impale someone.
