“Oh, God…”
He nods slowly. “I can see you’ve made the connection. Well, unfortunately, Barry is not going to be available to meet with your FBI friend anytime soon.”
They got Barry…
Tears clog my throat, and I try to swallow them down but choke instead, coughing and gagging violently.
He doesn’t seem to care. “We followed you that day, you know?”
Finally able to breathe again, I glare at him as Connor’s warning from the day he brought me up here echoes through my head—about how easy it was for him to follow me, and how he hadn’t known to be looking for anyone following him.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“The day you went to go meet with Barry. Connor McBride followed you, and we followed him. It was quite the little caravan down to Atlanta.”
Oh, my God.
My chest tightens.
Connor was right.
About everything.
“Barry was packing a bag, getting ready to go, when I got to him.”
Oh, God.
I don’t want to hear this.
I don’t want to know the specifics.
“The only reason you and McBride got away up here is that I let you leave Atlanta in order to handle Barry.” He tips his head to the side, his brow furrowing. “Do you know what sound flesh makes when you carve it with a knife like this?” The hand not still holding the gun reaches down into his boot and pulls out a blade that has me flinching away from it. “You have to listen carefully because someone’s usually screaming, but it’s pretty incredible.”
He grins, and I almost lose my battle with a heave. I cough through it again, the tears welling in my eyes as I tug against my restraints again. My anguish over Barry’s death and my hand in it threatens to consume me…
Until I remember one very important detail.
A little laugh threatens to bubble up my throat, but I manage to contain it.
Killing Barry won’t silence him.
Not when I have his full statement recorded and on the damn drive I sent with Connor.
Barry’s death won’t prevent him from testifying because that damn recording will still be usable against Lorell in court under the forfeiture by wrongdoing doctrine.
And this asshole has no idea.
As long as Connor gets it where it needs to go, Barry’s murder could end up being the final nail in the coffin needed to ensure the Lorells stay buried forever.
But I have to do everything I can to ensure I don’t end up six feet under, too.
Pretending to recover from my shock at his brutal words, rather than at the irony of what his actions may have done, I shake my head. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This. Work for them. Be their assassin. If you tell the FBI everything you know, it will be enough to put away Lorell and all of his men for the rest of their lives.”
He barks out a laugh that would have made my blood run cold if it weren’t already like ice in my veins and pushes to his feet, flipping the knife around his finger in a practiced move he’s clearly done before, the blade spinning around as he paces the tight space.
