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I drop the curtain and take a second for my eyes to adjust in the sudden darkness. “I don’t see anything on the street, at least. If Kreshnik was going to attack, he would have. If you were involved, I assume you would have done something by now, too.”
She nods. “It’s true. This has been very boring. Killing you would have livened things up.”
“That’s not as funny as you think it is.”
“Yes, it is.” She grins and, for a second, we’re back at the penthouse in the city. We’re lounging on the couch with Benjamin between us, music playing through the bookshelf speakers.
It’s a flash of how things were. Of how I briefly hoped they’d be forever.
But life isn’t a fairytale. Mine sure as fuck isn’t, at least.
I pace over to the bar. The shot I poured before Piper arrived is still sitting there. I toss it back. It’s lukewarm, but it still burns.
“How long are we going to stay here?” Piper sits down on the barstool next to me. Her long legs are crossed at the ankle. “If Kreshnik is wandering around, wouldn’t it be better to head back?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
She shrugs. “Not really. I’m not even sure if I still have a job anymore. I haven’t talked to anyone at work in… days. James texted me two days ago about a lunch for my…” Her voice drifts off as if she regretted saying anything at all.
“For your…?”
“My… my birthday.” She grabs her phone and checks the date. Then she chuckles sadly. “Happy birthday to me. That’s today.”
“Today is your birthday?Todaytoday?”
She circles a finger over her head in a half-hearted celebration. “The big three-oh. Welcome to my thirties, where I am homeless, jobless, and potentially being hunted by the leader of a criminal organization.”
“That’s only half right.”
Fuck if I’ll let her be homeless. What kind of monster does she think I am?
Oh. Right. The kind who’d accuse her of kidnapping and betrayal immediately after confessing his feelings for her. The kind who threatens her inside a closet, who hunts down her family in Mexico, who all but torments her with her own trauma.
I shake off that cold splash of reality and manage a smirk. “You’re not potentially being hunted. Youarebeing hunted.”
“Hooray for me.” She swivels her stool in my direction. “What do you usually do for your birthday?”
“Akim makes a ridiculously fancy cake.”
“Naturally.”
I nod. “Yeah. So, I eat cake and… I don’t know. I’m not much of one for celebrating.”
“What about Emily? I bet she was into it.”
I smile sadly. “You’re not wrong. She always dragged me out to some club and made sure I got all my drinks on the house.”
“That’s nice.”
I nudge her with my elbow. “What about you? Before all this shit went down, you and your friends seemed close. Didn’t they ever plan anything for your birthday?”
“Sure. We went to dinner. Noelle would usually buy me something. One year, she got me tickets to a play. Her company had a discount, so she got them real cheap. It was fun.”
“Figures. Nosebleed seats, I’m sure. What about Ashley? She must have done something. Pitched in for her own bail?” I say.
“Har-de-har-har. Once again, you fail to see the complete picture, Timofey Viktorov. She’s not a bad person.”
“I know she’s not,” I murmur. “She actually reminds me a bit of Emily.”
