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If I want to get out of this alive, I need to be smart about it. I need to bargain my way out of this situation as best I can.
“I’ll pretend I saw nothing.” My voice quivers, even though I try to sound as confident and neutral as possible.
“Will you now?” His tone isn’t mocking, but it suggests he doesn’t believe a word I say. “Are you sure you won’t call 911 as soon as you round the corner?”
My lips part. I should’ve realized he’d figure that out. I mean, yes, of course I’m calling the police. Who in their right mind would witness a murder—a triple one, at that—and remain quiet about it?
At the reminder of the dead men, my stomach coils, rippling with tension, and I bite down the taste of nausea.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“How come I don’t believe you?” The slow tempo of his voice implies that he not only thinks I’m lying, but he also finds the idea that I thought I could fool him ridiculous.
You know what? Screw justice right now. I just need to save myself. Justice won’t be able to do it for me.
“I really won’t,” I say it like I mean it this time, because I truly have no plans to scheme against him considering that the possibility of being shot is hanging between us like a guillotine.
“What’s your name?” he asks out of the blue, taking me completely by surprise.
I think of a fake name to give him, because the less he knows about me, the better. But before I can open my mouth, he lifts my chin with the gun. “And do not lie to me. I have my ways of finding the truth, and if I catch you in a lie, it’ll be your first and final strike.”
“Lia,” I blurt out, fear getting the better of me. “My name is Lia.”
“Lia…” he rolls my name off his tongue with his accent, as if that will give it meaning. “So you’ll pretend you saw nothing tonight, Lia?”
I nod more times than needed, my chin hitting the gun with every movement, and nausea recoils in my belly.
“How will I make sure of it?”
“You…you can trust me.”
His lips twitch and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the smile to break free, but it never does. It seems trapped somewhere out of reach, just like the rest of his emotions. “Trust you? Surely even you realize how absurd that sounds.”
“There are surveillance cameras,” I blurt again. I want to tell him that the police will find out about the murders—and mine—if he decides to go through with it.
“Don’t worry about those. They’re not flesh and bone and, therefore, can be dealt with expeditiously. The current topic of discussion isyou.”
A human. Flesh and bone he can hurt.
His underlying threat mounts in the air and swiftly pierces through my jumbled nerves.
I rack my brain before I finally whisper, “I…I have money. It’s not much, but…”
“Do I look like someone who needs your money?”
I stare at him then,reallystare at him. At his pressed pants and elegant shirt. At his leather shoes and the expensive watch strapped to his wrist. He definitely doesn’t look like someone who needs money. However, he specified it. He said he doesn’t needmymoney, as if that has a category on its own.
He glides the tip of his gun to my mouth and I shudder, recalling exactly where that muzzle was only seconds before.
“You’ll keep these lips shut. You’ll forget all of our faces.”
I nod meekly. My only focus is to escape his swirling orbit that’s more freezing than the winter outside.
“If you let even a single word out, I’ll know, and believe me, you won’t like what happens, Lia. In fact, you won’t like it in the slightest.”
A burst of fear snaps my shoulder blades together and I stare at him, dumbfounded. How will he know? How is that going to be possible?
“Is that clear?” he speaks slowly, unhurriedly, cementing his words.
