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“It’s a lot of blood.”
“How long?”
“About ten minutes per pint, but I might stretch it out. After, I’m going to feel tired, and I’ll need to sleep.”
Simon reaches in and pulls out the cake, walking it toward me with a fork in the other hand. “I thought I was going to kill you tonight.”
“You are. Right after we’re done here, you’re going to tie me to this chair and film yourself stabbing me.”
Simon stumbles as he gets to me, almost dropping the cake.
“Easy there, Simon. No one is going to die tonight.”
He puts the cake on the small table next to me and holds out the fork. “Does Ann know what’s going on?”
I shake my head. “Ann knows what Ann needs to know, and this isn’t something she needs to know.” I smirk at him.
He has no idea who Ann really is. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with her. Unlike me, she doesn’t find it necessary to satiate her demons, they don’t control her, but she has no problem with killing if it needs to be done. Strangely, she loves him.
Simon tilts his head to the side and looks me dead in the eyes. “How are we going to do this? Do you really think Stonewall is going to fall for it?” He shakes his head. “I don’t—”
“But I do,” I reply calmly as I shovel a piece of cake into my mouth. “So long as the footage of me dying looks real, it’ll be fine. You can be as freaked out as you please, he’ll probably believe you more.” I take another bite. “He’ll think you’re in shock.”
Simon sits on the chair and looks around the room. There’s not much to look at—the table, the coolers, two chairs, a small table next to me, and the IV, which is sucking out my blood into a bag. I picked this warehouse as it’s on the outskirts of town, and no one comes here, not even the homeless.
Like a scared rabbit, Simon stands again and goes over to the cooler. He reaches in and pulls out a few slices of my roast beef.
“It’s good. I cooked it myself.”
Simon bites into it and walks back to me, chewing mechanically. He sits and stares at the floor.
“Okay, let’s say Stonewall buys it and doesn’t kill me. What then? How will I contact you?”
“I’ve got a burner phone for you.”
“He’ll find it. He’s got eyes everywhere.”
Grunting, I hold up a hand, turn off the IV, and put a fresh bag on the end of the tube. “Yes, he does. We’ll hide the phone in a place you go regularly.Ifsomeone sees you with it, they probably won’t notice. You’re overthinking this, Simon. Lots of people your age have a cell phone… hell, everyone has one.” He nods, but his left leg starts moving up and down, a clear sign he’s stressed. “Can you get me some orange juice and the broccoli?”
“Why broccoli?”
“For the iron, same as the beef, and it’s good for you. The cake is full of sugary goodness, just like the orange juice.”
Simon does as he’s told and gets me the food. As he hands it over, he asks, “Are you sure this will work?”
“Yes.”
“Because you’ve done it before?”
With a smirk, I stab a piece of broccoli. “Yep.”
Simon
Hank sits there chewing away on his broccoli as the bag fills up with his blood. It’s like a walk in the park for him, but I’m the one taking all the risks. If Stonewall figures it out, I’m dead. It’d be easier to kill him than act my way out of this. And I swear the man can read my thoughts. Even now, as he chews away, I can feel his eyes on me, evaluating me.
Sitting back down, I wrap an arm around my waist and chew on my thumbnail. My freaking leg is bouncing up and down. I’m full of energy but so fucking tired at the same time. Hank is sitting there drinking his orange juice and not saying a fucking word. The silence is killing me, and yet I don’t want to talk to him.
Hank is scary.
