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Timofey fights an eye roll and then runs his tongue over his teeth. “Five minutes.”
I look back to Ashley and Gram on the stairs. “Stay right here. We’ll be back.”
They start to argue, but I hurry after Timofey so I don’t waste a single second. I have no doubt he is keeping time.
He comes to a stop under the umbrellas. Spots of red, yellow, and blue light dapple his shoulders and the ground at our feet. It’s a remarkably cheerful place to have a conversation as serious as the one we’re about to have.
“Don’t hurt them.” I stare at the broad expanse of his chest. It’s easier than meeting his eyes. Because the longer I stare at his chest, the longer I can live with the denial that begging will do anything to soften Timofey’s heart. “Please. They didn’t do anything wrong. This is all my fault.”
“So you admit it?”
I shake my head. “Not about Benjamin. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where he is.”
He takes a step towards me. He’s close enough that his breath lifts my hair. “But you know who has him, Piper. Even if you don’t know where he is, you know who has him.”
I start to shake my head—to deny it—but I can’t. Not fully.
Because I’ve never been good at lying.
“Five minutes,” I say, finally looking into his eyes. “Give me five minutes to try and…to try and bring Benjamin home.”
I expect to see vengeance itself. Instead, he looks tired. As tired as I feel.
“Five minutes is more than you deserve,” he says at last. “But I’ll give it to you.”
He starts to walk away, but I grab his elbow. “Was it the bellboy?”
He arches a brow, confused.
“Did the bellboy tell you where to find me?” I elaborate. “Did you pay him off to keep tabs on me?”
“He didn’t have to,” he says. “I knew if I left you alone, you’d lead me right where I needed to go. You have no one but yourself to blame.”
Of course.“What's new?” I mutter. “I always have myself to blame.”
Timofey and I walk back to Gram and Ashley, who are watching us with curiosity. I want to stay here with them. Even though Timofey said I have five minutes, I can’t help but feel like it’s a trap. The moment I turn my back, he’ll disappear with them.
But I don’t have the luxury of time. I have to trust that he’s a man of his word, even if he doesn’t think I’m a woman of mine.
“Ash, can I borrow your phone?”
She frowns. “Who are you calling? I still don’t know if my phone plan has international minutes.”
“This is a little more important than paying by the minute, Ash. I’ll fund the difference, I told you.”
“Don’t you have a phone?” she mumbles, pulling out her pink bedazzled phone and thrusting it into my hands.
I don’t waste time explaining that my phone is probably tucked in Timofey’s pocket right now since he stole it from me so I wouldn’t be able to call and warn them. Instead, I thank her with a nod and head back to the corner of the courtyard under the umbrellas. It’s as close to privacy as I’m going to get right now.
The number I need is second in Ashley’s recents, just under mine. I tap the icon and wait.
Two rings later, Noelle’s voice comes over the line. “Miss me already, bitch? We just talked last night.”
“Noelle.”
She goes quiet. I know she recognizes my voice the same way I recognize hers. There are too many years of late-night phone calls and video chats in our past. It’s why the line on her end is nothing but dead air while Noelle figures out what she is going to do: hang up or wait to see what I want.
I’m banking on the second choice.
