Page 55 of The Wrong Monster

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be…” He tilts his head, indicating a side street.

“Of course not.”

The bodyguard turns and disappears into an alley between two tourist shops, somehow vanishing into the narrow brick walkway within seconds. I watch him go, looking for any reason not to walk through the door of that coffee shop.

Isla is staying at one of Vasily’s vacation homes nearby. I’m supposed to tell her I paid for it so she could visit me, while I’m staying somewhere else. When Vasily accepted that Isla was coming regardless, his team moved quickly. At least I was able to answer her the next afternoon.

Nothing about this situation is normal, and I’m terrified Isla will take one look at me and know. We’ve been best friends since we were in elementary school. Despite some questionable choices over the years and her odd obsession with furred creatures, she’s smart.

I stop outside the café and take a breath. My stomach is tight.

I’ve been kidnapped by a Russian mafia boss, negotiated my way into working for him, and spent the last several days picking apart his financial records.

None of that has made me as nervous as walking through this door.

Because Isla will see everything. The fear, the exhaustion, the fact that I’m lying. That’s the funny thing about being a defense attorney; everyone assumes you’re lying about something. Exaggerating, at the very least.

I don’t. I can’t.

I redirect, sure, but I never lie.

I push open the door, and a small bell chimes overhead. Warmth wraps around me immediately, carrying the smell of coffee, cinnamon, and something buttery baking in the kitchen. The café is surprisingly quiet, perhaps because church isn’t out yet. A few scattered customers sit at small wooden tables, speaking softly.

For one strange second, it feels normal.

Then I remember why I’m here.

And who is waiting for me.

Isla is already in a booth near the back. The second she sees me, she stands.

“Matty.”

I barely have time to set my purse down before she’s wrapping her arms around me. I hug her hard, closing my eyes for half a second.

God, I’ve missed her.

And immediately, guilt twists through me. It’s to keep her safe, the voice in my head whispers.

“You’re okay,” she murmurs against my hair.

“I’m fine.”

She pulls back and studies my face. “You’re thinner.”

“I’ve been working a lot.”

“Of course you have.” Her expression says she doesn’t believe me, but she lets it go. We sit, and almost immediately she’s talking about the house. “Matty, this is not a cabin.”

I laugh, though my mind is going a mile a minute because I haven’t actually seen where she’s staying. But knowing Vasily, and seeing the plans for some of Deep Waters’s properties, I can guess what she’s getting at.

“It is technically a cabin.”

“Cabins are small and rustic, and cute. It’s got heated floors.”

“Okay, it’s a luxury cabin.”

“There’s a sauna,” she deadpans. I blink, readjusting my approach and making a note to talk to Vasily in the future about providing more information.