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“You fucked me over, too, Cat,” I add in. “I might help him.”
That grabs her attention.
The words of love we shared, words we meant, sing soft in the air.
I don’t know what Jac feels, but he lets her go, pushing her.
“Fine,” she says, “I took it. You clearly know that. But I deserved it.”
“You deserve shit.” Jac folds his arms.
I go to the mini bar and grab a whiskey because while there’s Hibiki upstairs, I need something now. I undo the lid and she says, “Hend—”
“Here.” I shove it at her, ignoring Jac’s “pussy”muttered under his breath. Then I get another. “You don’t deserve it, at all. It’s not yours.”
“Neither one of you can work out who it belongs to—” Magdalena drinks the small bottle. “Possession is nine tenths.”
There’s movement outside the busted door. My clean-up crew.
Jac sees them and drops to go over the guy thoroughly. He’s quicker than Cat. We’ve both done this before. He takes the weapons and another phone, a folded piece of paper in his breast pocket.
Then he grabs the wallet and the phone that Magdalena’s clutching, and I grab the iPad.
“Upstairs, now. This way,” I say, leading my number one enemy and my untrustworthy lover to my private elevator. They follow without question, and Cat’s wobbly steps don’t go unnoticed by me.
As I press in the code, Jac puts a hand on my arm. I look at it and then him. He looks about as pleased as I feel with him touching me. He holds up his phone that’s lit up with a call.
“I have to take this. Give me the code.”
“Not on your life, Jac.” But I reach into my pocket and pull out the card I got when we arrived. “This will get you up there.”
“I still fucking hate you.”
“Never change, Jac.”
“Fuck you, too,” he says. “And fuck you, MG. To hell and back.”
The elevator ride is thick with unsaid words and tension.
When we arrive at the office suite I occasionally use for business—mostly I use this as another place to sleep when I want to be in the heart of Delacroix City, and not be bothered—she speaks.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“I thought about it.” I kick off my shoes, dump the shit Jac handed me on the coffee table in the living room area, pull off my jacket, best and undo my tie, and feeling a little more at ease, I head to the bar. “But alive is better when you want answers.”
“I don’t have the necklace—”
“Save it.” I pour a large glass and down a mouthful. “You fucking stole from me. Twice. The first I set up, and you sweetCat, took the bait, the second? That’s a hard one to forgive. Jac isn’t wrong.”
Her face lifts to me, and the beat in the air starts to throb. “In wanting to fuck you?”
“Kill you.”
She doesn’t step back. She doesn’t defend herself.
Instead, Magdalena walks up to me, so close I can smell ylang-ylang, not her darkly citrus and spice scent. The one that embedded itself so deep it’s part of me.
She takes my glass and drinks from it, before pressing it back in my hand. “Pity, fucking you seems so much more fun.”
