Page 128 of Jonas

Distraction.

Misdirection.

Chaos.

Kira was smart. She’d find a way, and as soon as she did, Jonas would come.

We had memories to make.

A life to start.

“There’s your problem, Natalie. Or should I call you Cherri, or does cunt work for you?” Natalie’s eyes flashed when I mentioned Cherri. “You’re not as smart as you think you are. You might’ve pulled one over on me because I was focused on Anson’s problems. But you didn’t outsmart Zane. Neither of you did. If you don’t think Zane has it all figured out—you’re just not very smart, you’re stupid. You’re playing in the minor leagues, running around playing at spy games while Zane is so far above your pay grade it’s laughable. Bottom line—you’re all fucked. You want to know specifically what that means? You want to know what Zane knows, go find him and ask. I fucking dare you.”

“Do you know who I am?” Jun De Chen asked.

Oh, fuck.

Damn.

The MSS agent entering the conversation couldn’t be good.

I was out of time.

“No.”

“You’re lying,” he called me out.

“Do you work at Delcon⁠—”

“You’ve done so well thus far, Miss Layne. There’s no reason for you to start lying now.”

He was right, thus far I’d done a good job keeping my fear at bay. Letting my anger outweigh the reality of my situation, locking down the terror that was pressing against my chest, withstanding the hostile battle between the morbid truth and any hope I had left of being saved.

The funny thing about denial was, as soon as there was a crack, you could no longer disassociate. The truth rushed in like a tidal wave. Unwelcome thoughts bombarded; I was never going to get to fully experience what it felt like to be loved by Jonas. I was never going to get to dance with Jonas in the rain. I was never going to see him smile or hear his laugh again. There would be no more kisses. No more teasing. No anniversaries. No babies. Nothing.

Just nothing.

I’d be a memory.

A blip on the timeline of his life.

Fuck these people.

Fuck Jun De Chen.

Fuck Natalie the cunt.

Fuck Keith whatever his real name was.

“Untie me from the chair,” I demanded.

No one moved, but Jun De grinned.

I glanced among the three of them, pleased to see Natalie no longer looked like the smug bitch she’d been when I was first dragged into the room. Keith’s expression was stoic, the stiffness in his frame expressed alertness. Since the boss had entered the exchange, they were going to defer to him.

Not surprising—they were indeed just pawns.

I transferred my stare back to Jun De and insisted, “If you’re going to kill me, the least you can do is untie me so I can die on my feet.”