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“Put on your shoes,” I repeated.
She looked like she wanted to say something else but then thought better of it. She put on her shoes, then grabbed a jacket.
We drove, the ride silent but not tense, at least on my part.
I knew exactly what needed to be done, and though I was wary of Amethyst’s reaction, I would do what needed to be done. If I handled this right, she would understand.
“What is this place?” she asked.
I had pulled up to a warehouse, one that very purposely appeared deserted.
“For your purposes, it’s nowhere,” I said.
“Davit, where are we going?”
She had shifted in her seat to stare at me, and I didn’t miss the sternness in her voice.
Or the fear in her eyes.
The fear was there because of me. I couldn’t pretend otherwise, just as I couldn’t pretend I didn’t see it.
“You think I brought you here to kill you?” I asked.
“It would seem to be an obvious conclusion,” she said.
I met her eyes. “Someone is going to die here, but it won’t be you.”
She inhaled sharply, her brows knitted together as she stared at me.
“What does that mean, Davit?”
“It means right now I’m giving you a choice,” I whispered.
“What choice?” she whispered, her expression almost blank, which only underscored how seriously she was taking this.
“I know who was behind the attack and will eliminate any further threat. You need to decide if you want to be a part of this,” I said.
She studied me, but I couldn’t read her expression, couldn’t sense her thoughts. “What if I say I don’t want to be?”
“That’s fine. It’s your choice,” I answered.
“But,” she said, “and I know there’s a ‘but.’”
“All you’ll know is that the threat has been eliminated,” I said.
“Meaning I’ll never know who tried to kill me or why.” She frowned, her eyes flashing with emotion for the first time since she’d gotten into the car.
“Yes,” I responded, though no answer was necessary.
I watched Amethyst struggle with the decision. She’d looked away so that her face was in profile, but she turned and met my eyes again. “You’re really going to make me choose?”
“Yes,” I responded.
“And be complicit,” she said.
“A necessary consequence,” I responded.
She scoffed. “God, I hate you.” She scrubbed her hands down her face and looked at me. “You know I could never live with not knowing, but now I have to decide if knowing is worth the cost.”
