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I press her back against the dresser. “I’m already going to hell. What’s another sin on the way down?”
Then her phone vibrates again and again. A nonstop series of messages that are impossible to ignore.
She reaches for it with flamed cheeks. “Sorry. I’ll turn it off.” But when she sees who’s texting, her smile falls.
She scrolls and scrolls, her expression growing stonier by the second. When she finally looks up at me, I feel like the last few minutes were a dream. I must have imagined them.
“You said you’ve killed someone before.”
It’s a statement, not a question. But it comes from so far out of left field that I can’t get my bearings. I shake my head. “What?”
“You told me before that you killed someone.”
“Yousaw mekill someone,” I remind her. “Thatmudaktried to snipe you. I killed him to—”
She shakes her head. “Not him.”
I step away. “Most people have the ‘how many people have you slept with’ conversation. This is a new one.”
“I’m not talking about your enemies,” she says. “I’m not talking about taking out people who attack you. You told me when I first got here that you had killed another girlfriend. Is that true?”
I remember it now. Cora and I were arguing. She wanted to leave. I wanted her to stay.
What are you going to do? Kill me?
It wouldn’t be the first time,I said.
“Why are you asking me about this now?” I ask, the heat inside of me turning to solid ice.
Her eyes narrow. “Tell me who Katerina is.”
And just like that, the other shoe drops.
72
IVAN
Cora gets out of her dress and into normal clothes faster than should be possible. I still haven’t said a word.
There isn’t a word to say. Not if I’m going to keep my promises.
She turns to me, her lace bodysuit tucked into her jeans. “Are you really not going to say anything?” she hisses. “Defend yourself! Explain this to me!”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
She holds up her phone. The screen is black now, but I can guess what the text messages were. The way Francia and Jorden acted when I showed up makes a lot more sense now.
They were digging up dirt on me.
“Your last girlfriend is missing. No one has seen her,” she says. “And when I asked if you were going to kill me, you said, ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’ I thought you were just saying that, but now… Now, I don’t know.”
“It looks like you know enough.” I gesture to where she’s slipping into her shoes. “One text and you’re ready to sprint out the door.”
“Because you aren’t telling me anything!” she cries.
She shoves her phone in her pocket and presses her hands over her eyes. When she pulls them away, there are tears gathering there. Emotion threatening to overflow.
She takes a deep breath and whirls towards me. “You and I are in a weird, not-really-a-relationship where we don’t owe each other a lot. I’m doing you a favor and you’re keeping me alive. It’s quid pro quo. This is different. You owe me an explanation, Ivan.”
