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“One that’s safe.”
“Yet the only time I’ve ever felt danger is here, at this moment, with you.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I truly am. I couldn’t have you unraveling everything I’ve built. I saw the recognition on your face. It was only a matter of time before you placed me. I had to make sure you didn’t tell anyone.”
My legs ache from lying in one spot for too long. I shift, pulling my knees up. “How do you know I already haven’t told everyone?”
That gives her pause, and she checks out the window once again. Pulling the curtain back into place, she shakes her head. “I’d be dead already. They wouldn’t have left you alone.”
She’s not wrong.IfI had remembered earlier. Unfortunately, my memory had only triggered moments before Krista turned up at my apartment. I’d managed to scribble her name down messily before Andre was dead, and she was waving a gun in my face.
I’m certain Vincent would’ve seen her name by now. He already knew she was in my apartment. There was no other reason for Andre’s presence. Andre died trying to protect me. The moment he realized he’d been shot slides into my mind with the recognition of his name, the split second of fear that pierced his eyes when he accepted his fate. I close my eyes, but it only strengthens the memory, and I open them again, hating the way they sting. Andre was innocent. He wasn't embroiled in the lawlessness of the family. Fuck, he was a driver.
“Why are you crying?”
I wipe away my tears with the hand not cuffed. “I’m handcuffed to a bed by a police detective with a hero complex who is holding me hostage after she shot a man in cold blood. I’m fucking scared.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
I blow out an angry breath. “Tell that to Andre’s corpse.”
She uses the butt of the gun to rub her chin. “I panicked.”
Voices echo from the parking lot outside, and I consider screaming for help. I’d have seconds before she reached me. I could yell loud enough to alert the outside world of my presence. But she’dpanic,and I don’t plan on dying at seventeen with matching bullet wounds to Andre.
“Who are you looking for?”
“I reached out to an agent in my unit,” she answers absently.
This chick is next-level stupid. “Krista, there is no outcome here where you walk away free. You know that, right? You’ll either be arrested or shot. It just depends on who arrives first.”
She closes her eyes tightly. “No.I did right. I amnotleaving empty-handed. I gave four years of my fucking life to these criminals. Ihaveto win.”
“I think you’ve already lost,” I whisper. “Look at yourself. Is this who you want to be?”
“Shut up,” she bites out.
Quick taps on the front door startle us both, and I attempt to shift higher up the bed. “Krista, unlock me. Please.”
“Shhh.”
Another tap.
“Delaney, it’s Danny.”
Her shoulders sag with relief, and she moves toward the door. Cracking it open, she peeks out, then closes it over again, rushing to unlock it and allow her friend Danny access.
He steps into the room with another man close on his heels.
“No.” Krista lifts her gun, stepping back. “I told you to come alone.”
Danny lifts his hands in surrender. “This is Mikey.” He gestures to the man behind him. “He’s good police, Delaney.”
She eyes the young cop, Mikey. He holds her stare.
Her gaze flicks back to Danny in indecision.
Mikey’s eyes cut to me, and I divert my face, not wanting to witness any potential carnage; mine, hers, or theirs. I send off a prayer, hoping my mom’s watching me and keeping me safe like she promised she would.
