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“You’re sure, then?”
Holly’s blonde hair hangs across her cheeks, and she looks so tiny in that chair. I scan her bare limbs for cuts and bruises, my heart hammering, because the little maid can hear every word we’re saying crystal clear, but she doesn’t look up. She’s defeated.
I hate this so much.
“Yes.” Santo leans against the back wall, folding his arms and watching her. “We found ties to the Governor, and our warehouse in the garment district got raided last night. That’s the piece of information we fed her.”
Twice damned. Ah, Christ.
Well, Santo never does anything by half measures. If he was gonna catch my girl in a lie, he was gonna do it thoroughly.
“I want to know why she did it.” The boss inspects one thumbnail, looking bored. “I want to know the exact information she passed along. All of it.”
So far, so obvious.
“And then I want her cooperation with a special task.”
My gut twists. “But we can’t trust her,” I say, desperate to spare her from whatever this is—and over in her chair, Holly’s shoulders droop another inch. But I’ve hurt her for no reason, because Santo shrugs, unfazed.
“We don’t need to trust her for this.”
One minute later, Holly and I are alone in the cold, concrete room. How is it drafty without any goddamn windows? I cross to her, throat tight, and crouch in front of her chair. The drain beside my knee is dark, and I try not to look at it.
“Baby.” She’s sniffling, lips pressed together in a tight line. Trying not to cry. “Did anyone hurt you? Are you hurt?”
There’s an agonizing pause, but then Holly jerks her chin from side to side.
No, they haven’t hurt her. Fine. Everyone in this compound can live a few minutes longer.
“You need to tell me everything,” I say urgently, checking her fingertips for circulation. Did they wrap the duct tape too tight? “Just tell me everything and we’ll go from there. You don’t need to protect the Governor, do you? Not that old asshole? So whatever bind you’re in, you just tell me all about it and I’ll fix it for you. Okay?”
Between the ends of her hair, Holly’s chin wobbles. “S-so nice to me,” she whispers.
Nice to her?Nice?
No one has ever called me nice in my whole goddamn life—no one except this girl. But she’s already sucking in a shaky breath; already raising her chin. Her eyes swim with tears, but she spills it all in one garbled rush.
Her employer, the Governor.
His threats against her sister.
The baby.
“W-we’ve been making baby clothes,” she hiccups, crying outright now, wild eyes bouncing around all the walls. “But if he sends Ruth to prison—please, you have to help her—”
“I will.” It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made, whatever it might cost me. My palms stroke up and down her arms. “I’ll take care of Ruth, I promise. And I’ll take care ofyou.”
Her laugh is strangled. “After I complete De Rossi’s task.”
Dread twists in my gut. And my mind’s already whirring, trying to figure a way out of this for her, but Holly straightens suddenly and looks me dead in the eye.
“Forget it. I want to do whatever it is. I bet it’s spying on the Governor, right? Turning double agent?” Her jaw firms at my shrug, because yeah, it’s probably that. It’s the only thing Holly can offer the boss at this point. “Then I’m happy to do it. Iwantthat horrible old creep to pay for what he’s done to me. But…”
Her courage drains away as fast as it came, and Holly’s smile is wobbly.
“I’m still a terrible spy.”
Ah, shit. I rub my chest, and I’m so fucking worried about her. Is this what love feels like? Watching your heart wander around outside your body, getting into scrape after scrape?
