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“Play it again,” he said hoarsely.
Davy gave a muttered curse. “Look, man. Please. Stop torturing yourself,” he pleaded. “Don’t make us watch this.”
“Look sharp. She’s coming out again, in real time,” Connor said.
They all lunged to the trio of real-time monitors that covered the three angles of the Gavin Street house. Sure enough, there was Becca. Dragging her suitcase back out to the curb. Another cab idled there. The driver got out, and put the suitcase in the trunk for her. She slid into the seat, and the car pulled away. So flat, so anticlimactic.
“How long was she in there?” Connor asked.
“Thirty-eight minutes, seventeen seconds,” Seth said promptly.
The fact that Becca had left the Vor’s hideout had broken the bubble of false hope in his mind. Nick no longer wanted Davy to play that footage back. He was going to be looking at that footage in his head for a long, long time to come.
Unless he got himself offed. The odds of which were looking pretty good, considering how things were shaping up.
Hey. He might even get lucky and buy the big one this very day. Then he wouldn’t have to feel this way anymore. A guy could hope.
The silence was deafening. He was tempted to throw a computer, just to break that wall of silent pity and judgment.
But these guys had enough to put up with from him as it was.
Seth cleared his throat with a cough. “Weird,” he said cautiously. “That she would go there, if she knew that we were watching—”
“She didn’t know,” Nick cut in. “I never discussed too many details with her. She knew Zhoglo’s name, yeah. And she knew I was watching someone, but not who or where.”
“Well. Thank God for that, at least,” Connor said.
Yeah. Thank God. If she’d known they were surveilling Zhoglo’s digs, she would never have exposed herself. And he’d still be racking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck he could sell to pay for the rock he wanted to buy her. He still would not know that the woman he had begged to marry him was a treacherous, two-faced whore, hired by that scum-sucking vermin to seduce him, enthrall him, monitor him. Control him.
She’d been doing an amazing job of it. She wasgood. She must have been pleased with herself. Zhoglo must have been fucking thrilled. She’d probably be able to set herself up for life for what he’d paid her for this stunt. He wondered where the hell Zhoglo had found her.
He racked his brains, in a last-ditch desperate effort to think of any reason, any explanation at all for why Becca might saunter into a mobster’s house, hang out for the better part of an hour, and then trot out again, all with that calm, businesslike air.
He wondered if she’d ever serviced the Vor. Maybe she had today. Thirty-eight minutes and seventeen seconds was more than enough time for that, even with lead-in and cleanup, if they were brisk.
What burned in his chest now like a red-hot coal was the thought that he had let go of his search for Sveti for the sake of this lying bitch.
Davy let out a slow sigh. “Nick. I’m sorry that your—”
“Don’t,” he said. “Please. Just don’t.”
“You’ve got to look ahead, man,” Davy went on, his voice flat and implacable. “You need a plan, and you need it now.”
“Fuck it,” Nick said savagely. “Fuck you. Fuck this. All of it—”
“Shut up.” Connor’s voice slashed down, making him jerk. “You do not have the luxury of freaking out. You got used. You got fucked over. It’s bad, it hurts, we’ve all been there, we all survived—”
“Leave me alone, Con—”
“Hear me out,” Connor pressed grimly on. “The only useful thing you can do with this now is to turn it to your own advantage.”
“Advantage?” He started to laugh, incredulous. “Yeah. Right.”
“Yes. Advantage. You cannot confront her about this, Nick.”
Three sets of eyes bored into him as that sank in. “Holy fuck,” he muttered, helplessly. “You mean I—”
“Yeah,” Davy said heavily. “You have to keep on just as you are. Like nothing ever happened. Play it cool. Go and buy the fucking ring.”
