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“A privilege I was forced into! I don’t get a choice. If I’m in danger, then I deserve to know the details.”
I scoff. “So this is about Rodion. About what he said.”
Her skin is flushed from her shower just like it was when I pinned her against the passenger door and dropped to my knees in front of her. I shove the memory away, but it leaves reluctantly. It doesn’t help that Piper is wearing nothing but a tiny towel.
“You beg me to fuck you hard,” I spit, “but you still trust Rodion over me. He says you’re not safe here, and you believe him. Forget what I have to say about it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, what’s not fair is you accusing me of Emily’s murder.”
She shrugs without making any attempt to deny it.
“But you know what’s strangest of all? You think I murdered a woman and yet you still spread yourself open for me. What does that say aboutyou?”
“I didn’t know two days ago what I know now,” she snaps. “Like the fact that Emily gave birth right before she was murdered. If I did my math right, her baby would be a few months old.”
I stare at her, refusing to acknowledge the dots she has obviously connected.
“Benjamin is Emily’s child, isn’t he?” she asks.
“You’ve come to enough conclusions without my input.”
Too many, honestly. I’ve made a lot of cracks about Piper’s intelligence, but the woman pays attention.
“Timofey…” she breathes. She’s holding her towel to her chest with white knuckles. Her eyes are pleading with me. “Just tell me what’s going on. I’ve already agreed to lie to CPS for you. This doesn’t change anything.”
“We both know how tenuous your word is.”
“You want to talk aboutmyword?” she spits. “What about yours? I know you were supposed to go to Tokyo the week Emily was killed. But you didn’t. You canceled the trip. Why?”
Because a baby was left on my fucking doorstep.
The excuse is there on the tip of my tongue. It would answer so many questions. But I don’t owe an explanation to Piper or anyone else. Especially since Emily swore me to secrecy.
“Rodion has an alibi,” Piper says. “Do you?”
The mention of his name lights a fuse in me. I’m not sure what will happen when it burns down.
I stalk towards her, backing her into the corner of her room. She’s trembling. It could be from fear, though she was trembling that night in the garage, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of me then. My guess is it has more to do with the fact that she is damp and practically naked.
“If you think I’m guilty of a crime, call the police.”
“Like it would matter. You own the police.”
“Not nearly as many as you must think,” I admit. “You’re bound to find someone who is all too happy to bring down the Viktorov Bratva. You’d be a star witness.”
She swallows, her throat bobbing nervously. “Like you’d let me.”
I throw my phone on her bed and wave for her to grab it. “Go for it. Be my fucking guest.”
Piper looks from me to the phone and back again. I can tell she isn’t going to make a move for it, but she is trying to decide how serious I am. What my angle is.
“Call them and get me locked up if you want,” I continue. “But see who will protect you when I’m not around.”
She frowns. “Protect me from what?”
The insinuation is plain enough. I’m the only threat she is worried about right now. With me gone, what would she have left to be scared of?
