Shot in the Dark (Blackbridge Security #2) - Marie James Page 0,49
for the night doesn’t settle my nerves at all. From the sparkle in her eyes, I have no doubt she’s going to pocket the cash and not log the room as occupied.
The room is surprisingly clean, but the soft scent of Pine Sol floating in the air does nothing to loosen the tension in my shoulders. I know looks can be deceiving, and even though my life is on the line, I’d rather not die with a positive STD test. Refusing to take a shower, I even draw my hands back before touching the towels hanging from the bar in the bathroom, opting instead to use an old t-shirt I packed to move the clunky chair from in front of the window to block the door. I’m stuck in this room even if someone breaks in to hurt me, so my proactiveness doesn’t help much. I’ll hear the scrape of the feet if someone tries to muscle their way in, and as I sit on the bed with regret, I’m left wondering if hearing them coming is worse than a surprise attack.
I look at the watch on my wrist, a cheap digital thing I thankfully remembered before leaving my apartment.
“Seven and a half hours,” I tell Simon who isn’t as concerned about germs and is resting peacefully on the chair in front of the door. He calmed down almost immediately after I pulled him out of the backpack.
My Apple watch was dropped in the stairwell, and I also left behind my computer and laptop. Other than the transactions at the airport, I’m pretty certain I’ve left no other traces, and those crumbs were purposeful. Hopefully by the time Jones discovers that I wasn’t actually on the flight manifest to New York, I’ll have cash in hand and I’ll be in the wind.
I itch to call Sarah, but Jones knew what I discovered within minutes of finding it. I have no doubt he was the one coming off the elevator just as I made my escape. The sheer closeness of the timing makes tingles wash over my skin. Rubbing at my arms, I grow even more frightened for my friend. If Jones was able to track my keystrokes, then he knows all about Wren and Sarah. I can only pray that he’s more focused on finding me than wasting energy on going after those two.
Jesus. Have I compromised everything?
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, making my nose sting in the process as I think about everything I have to give up. My best friend. The man who just tonight told me he wants thoughts of happiness, marriage, and a future in my head. Both of them gone. I’d never compromise their safety, and I’m a fool for thinking I could have a normal life. So much for going straight with my computer work. I should’ve stuck with graphic design like my parents think I do. The money wasn’t great, and it was beyond difficult working with people who had no clue what they wanted and were quick to let you know the vision you drew up from their descriptions didn’t match what they needed, but it was honest work.
I thought what I was doing for Stephen Jones was honest work. I’d allowed that man to convince me that I was helping the FBI. I was working a job that I could be proud of, helping my country catch bad guys with the permission of the FBI, but that wasn’t the case. More than likely, it was a test to see if he’d hidden everything well enough to go on living his double life without having to worry about getting caught.
Either that or he’s a misogynistic asshole, so full of himself, that he never thought I’d dig deep enough and he just wanted dirt on the man who was doing the dirty with the same woman he was doing the dirty with.
“Fuck,” I grumble, rubbing my hands over my head before looking down at my watch again.
Six hours and forty-five minutes until the bank opens and I can make my escape from this town.
As I knew it would, time slows to a crawl. Every noise outside, every slam of a car door, and every wash of headlights that filter through the whisper-thin curtain sets me on edge. The music playing too loudly in the room at my back isn’t helping either, but Yanni never had the ability to set my mind at ease.