my slumped form. “You won’t remember a damn thing if I tell you anything now.”
“You wanted to die.”
“I want the impossible, and that makes me want to die.”
“Nothing is impossible,” I argue. “Nothing.”
“Everything is impossible.” She rests her lips on my scarred cheek, and I seize her, pulling her down to the bed with me. I can do no more than hold her to me, my body now done for the day.
“One day, I’m going to prove you wrong.” I close my eyes and fight my way through the room spin.
“I hope I’m here to see you do that,” she replies, making me frown into my darkness.
“Why, where else would you be?” She’s my prisoner. Why does everyone keep forgetting that detail? “You’re going nowhere, Rose L . . . L . . . Lillian Cassidyyy. Unless . . . unless it’s with me.”
Chapter 20
ROSE
* * *
I should feel great. I don’t. I had to pry myself from his arms last night. Strip him down. Redress the cuts on his arms after he ripped the bandages off, knowing I caused those. Watch him murmur and whimper in his sleep. Seeing him like that—so drunk, so raw, open and vulnerable . . .
It hurt. He won’t remember a thing. He won’t wake up and recall any of the things he said, what he did, how he held on to me with all he had.
That’s why I don’t feel great.
And the message on my phone is the reason I have to leave. Now.
* * *
Stupid Rose
* * *
There’s a picture of me. I’m with Danny. On his terrace. I close my eyes briefly. Nowhere is safe. Not even Danny’s mansion. His lips are on my chest. The photo is taken from above. From the sky. A drone? Here, in this moment in the picture, I’m a different woman. And to Nox, I am a dangerous woman.
He’s texted me. He never texts me. He’s taken a risk, and that alone shows his state of mind. The phone buzzes in my hand again, making me startle, and another picture appears. A low, broken sob escapes me when I see a photo of my son. He’s getting on a school bus, a backpack being dragged behind him, some soccer cleats slung over his shoulder, joined by the laces. I don’t have a second to appreciate him. This isn’t a reward. This is the end. My thumbs work without thought, bashing the keys across the screen.
* * *
I’ll call you. Give me five.
* * *
I click send and squeeze my hand around the phone, crushing it so hard it could crack. I was so sure I could do this. So certain I could fix this mess with Danny’s help. But as long as Nox plays his ace card, I can’t fix anything. No one can.
I peer out of the bathroom, seeing Danny still unconscious on the bed. I softly close the door and dial Nox. He doesn’t speak when he answers, leaving me to explain. “It’s been impossible to get in touch,” I say. “There’s always someone watching me, and Black takes me everywhere with him.”
“You’re lying. You’ve betrayed me. You’ve betrayed your son.”
“No,” I sob. “I’ll get you what you want, I swear.”
Nox hesitates for a second, humming. He knows he has me. I hate him with every fiber of my being. Hate him. “You have one chance to redeem yourself. And if you do, I might make sure you’re out of the firing line in future.”
“You knew I was on the balcony?” The drone.
“I want to know when the exchange with the Russians is happening. I want a time and a place. Or the next picture you get will be of your son in a coffin. And then I will kill you and find myself another whore.”
“I’ll get the information.” I assure him. “I promise.”
He hangs up, and a ragged cry escapes, forcing me to cover my mouth to muffle the sound. I’m going to lead Nox directly to his prey. I may as well be loading the gun and pulling the trigger. This is it. I look up to the mirror, seeing my bottom lip trembling terribly. “Shit,” I curse, rubbing at it, sniffing and generally trying to compose myself. I need to be together. I have no fucking clue how I’m going to get the information Nox wants. No clue. But I must.
Hiding the phone, I roll my shoulders and pull the door open. Danny’s starfished, his body stretched and spread far