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“Helping people for money?” I ask.
Jamie glances at me over his shoulder. “Yeah, but not how you think ofhelping.”
“Maybe I’m not as naïve as you think. Let me guess. You did bad things to bad people.”
“There was an underworld growing,” Jamie says, adjusting the heat on the stove and returning to me. He seems calmer now that he knows I won’t ask about theflames. That must involve his mom. He hasn’t mentioned her. “Ex-soldiers, law enforcement, vigilantes who were communicating via the internet. I never got involved, but Jack was in deep. It was how he made his living. Eventually, it turned from a loose collection of people to the website you tried to login into. After I retired from the SEALs, I joined up.”
“But who pays for this?” I ask. “I can’t imagine people spending…” I look around his huge apartment. “Thatmuch for people to make the world a better place.”
“Some might call that pessimistic.”
“Some might call itrealistic,” I counter.
“In the beginning, it was small-time jobs. A thousand bucks here. A thousand bucks there. Mostly regular folks who couldn’t go to the police. These were intimidation jobs. Then Jack found some…unorthodox philanthropists. That’s what he always called them. Basically, they were rich people who were tired of their cities turning into hellholes. Now, people can pay via the website. Everybody is anonymous, but I know we have several millionaires on there, and I suspect a few billionaires, too.”
I sit back, my head spinning. “This is crazy.”
Jamie shrugs. “I thought the same, but when I do the work, I get the pay. I vet every single job. Every time, they’ve been scumbags.”
“Have you…” I swallow. “Killed anyone?”
He turns back to the eggs, angrily pounding them. “I was deployed in combat twice, once for a double. That’s eighteen months in total. Of course, I’ve killed people.”
He says it so casually. I’ve had to think about whether I could do something like that before. When we were robbed, or assholes in the neighborhood ran around the house, banging the windows and scaring us like it was a sport. I was never sure if I could.
“How many?” I ask.
He turns off the stove, leaves the eggs on, and stirs them again. “Overseas or here?”
My heart is pounding so hard. Did Mom know any of this? This is the same man who wasspanking my bellyrecently, whose manhood was pushed against my clit, ready to take me. “Both.”
“It’s difficult to say overseas. Firefights are hectic. Seven for sure, and possibly more. Maybe five or six more. At home, eleven.”
So that means I’m talking to a man who’s possibly killed almost twenty-five people. He’s talking about it as though we’re discussing a sports team he’s not even interested in.
“And every one deserved it,” he grunts, walking to the cupboard, taking out a plate. Demon pads into the kitchen, pausing, ears flopping as he looks from Jamie to me and back again. I almost expect him to open his mouth and ask,Why are you up?“Morning, boy.” Jamie puts a plate in front of me, then grabs another. “So now you know, Lena. I’m a bogeyman. I’m a man who’s become rich from killing, threatening, and stealing. Do you want to run?”
I should sayyes. Nothing matters except Mom. I can see her now in that grimy kitchen or whatever room they’re keeping her in. She’ll be on her knees, her cross pendant in her hand if they let her have it, praying. Mom praysa lot. She believes. It was drilled into her as a kid. She never pushed it on me, but she never apologized for it.
But I can’t. I can’t sayno, either. I can’t just give myself to him.
“I’m your prisoner. It’s not like I’ve got a choice.”
He frowns. He knows it’s a coward’s answer. He knows it’s running away from the question, but I don’t have to answer. I don’t owe this man anything. Not yet. What if he saves Mom? I’ll reward him by telling him I never want to see him again. That’s going to hurt so badly.
“Anything else?” he grunts as he plates up the eggs.
I swallow. I really don’t want to ask this, but it’s important. “Why did you break up with Mom?”
He sits back and waits a moment. “I thought you were going to ask about the wallet.”
“You helped Mom use it, but you told her too much. I know Mom. She would’ve been asking and asking. She wouldn’t have ever told Antonio if you’d kept your mouth shut. I get that, Jamie.”
He flinches as if surprised by my guessing it. “Other women might hate me for that.”
He’s right. Other daughters wouldn’t even be able to look at him, but Mom’s the one who unloaded it on Antonio. “Maybe you shouldn’t have told her anything, but we’d still be in that hellhole if you hadn’t.”
“And Simone would be safe.”
