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Jerry reaches back and swipes a hand at the back of his neck, looking like he’d much rather wrap the hand around my throat because he is sick to death of my shit. “I want to help, you know,” he says. “You used to be a pretty damn good cop, for a…you know what I mean.”
We both grow a little larger, chests puffed out, every inch of me on high alert. My toes tingle as I exhale sharply. “You want to help me right into a jail cell.”
“A jail cell, an interrogation room.” He shrugs. “You’re going to have to come down to the ninth to prove me wrong if that’s what you want. Otherwise, you’re looking way too suspicious for me to let you walk away.”
And he’s about half a second away from taking his itchy fingers to the holster of his gun to threaten me.
“Jerry, turn around,” I say slowly. “Turn around and walk away. I promise you, I’ve got this in hand. Everything is going to be clear once I—”
“Once you what, Bishop?” he interrupts. His eyes go hard and beady. “Once you what?
This isn’t the normal Jerry I’m used to seeing. Not even the douchebag he used to be before his partner turned out to be a mole. This was a new Jerry, one who made direct eye contact even though he looked like it cost him too much to do so.ThisJerry is afraid of me.
“There are some details of Naomi’s report that don’t fit,” he continues, shifting forward to the balls of his feet. The rest of the world fades away from us until we’re the only two in the blur of movement. A stone in the sea of the sidewalk. “She says you’re not to blame for the shootout at the Galleria, but come on, man. Youranafterward. You’ve been fucking up your cases and brought in an innocent woman like some kind of criminal. You’ve lost the plot. Come in with me, and we’ll let Ashcroft figure things out.”
“Sorry. I can’t do that.”
I spring into motion, bolting down the street in the opposite direction, pumping my arms for speed as my heart lodges up in my throat. If Jerry catches me…if he radios for help and I’m intercepted…
Then Aria will be lost. She’ll die. And Broderick Steven is going to clean the streets.
TWENTY-TWO
aria
Nerves bite at my organs.It’s like being slowly devoured until there is nothing but a hollow cavity where vitality used to be. Each step I take toward the front door of headquarters has my feet going heavier, my blood pumping and sweat pooling in areas where it doesn’t belong. Not now, not today.
And all this without a slick of deodorant to my name.
Not as if it will make a difference. Deodorant isn’t battle armor.
The smile is permanently tacked in place, and I toss a haughty wave at the guards manning the front door. They don’t look at me, and if they do, I’m unable to track their eyes behind the black glasses they wear. Weapons are hidden beneath the sleek coats they wear against the weather, and one of them moves his lips to no doubt let the others in the building know I’m on my way up.
I’m a mess.
But damn, no one is going to be able to see it when they look at me. I swear to god I will take this performance to my grave if I have to.
“Hello, boys,” I purr on my way past them. Into the front foyer toward the elevators to take me up, up into the bowels of this den of iniquity. “Damn good to see you.”
My finger trembles as I jab it down on the button, and the moment the elevator surges into motion, my stomach does a roller coaster-worthy flip.
I can do this.
…What if I can’t do this?
What if this is just another Aria Darklyn delusion where I convince myself things are going to work out the way I want, only to find out…they never do?
Now, I’m doing it again and expecting a different result, which is the definition of insanity.
I draw in a breath and press a hand against my stomach. One more push and I’ll make it out the other side. If I go down, but the other runaway teens of Empire Bay are safe out there, then so be it. I’ll have to find Devan somewhere on the other side of Heaven and Hell and apologize to him there.
The elevator glides to a halt, the doors opening with a ding before I have a chance to mentally spiral into a black pit of despair. The hallway in front of me is empty, and with one last steadying breath, I push forward. Forcing myself to whistle one of my favorite K-pop songs the way I would any other day.
I breeze into the office, and Blake is so surprised to see me that he surges to his feet.
“Where have you been?” he blurts out. Overly round eyes take me in, every part of me in between. “You haven’t called or texted!”
“Are you disappointed I didn’t bring a donut for you today?” I tap my chin, pretending to think before I say, “I thought about grabbing you the purple cookie monster delight, which apparently has real cookie dough inside the donutty goodness, but then I thought, why bother? It’s only going to go straight to my hips.” I slap my thigh and laugh. “Since I’ll be the one eating it.”
