open up, years of living a life I hate, doing things that make me sick, knowing every day I’m disappointing my family because they think I actually like the person I’ve become.”
Mason’s face twists in disgust. “Exactly. So why go through it? There’s no guarantee you’ll find what you’re looking for. That guy could be full of shit. Why not just walk away now? You said it yourself you were going to quit stripping. Leave this vigilante mission behind, for us.” He implores me with his eyes. “Please, do that. Walk away and I promise I’ll give you a life you’ll never regret leaving that shit behind for.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “You’re asking me to turn my back on Svetlana when I’m finally so close to figuring out who killed her.”
“Yes. But it’s for us, for your safety. Fuck, Trix, just think about all the things that could go wrong here.”
I blink up at him. “You’re asking me to choose you over her. If I walk away, I’ll always wonder.”
“No, you won’t—”
“And I’ll hate you for making me choose.”
He flinches at my words, but understanding comes over his face.
“My parents told me that they wanted to adopt Svetlana because she was older. Young children have a much better chance at finding a family. It took them years of legal shit and paperwork until they finally made it to Russia to pick up their little girl. When they got to the orphanage, they said she refused to go. She didn’t cry or throw a fit, but just kept saying over and over, ‘Moya sestra. Moye serdtse.’ They said she wouldn’t stop, just kept chanting it.”
“What does it mean?”
“My sister. My heart.” Pain slices through my chest at the memory of her words. “My dad told me I was like a growth holding on to her leg: screaming, crying, and kicking up a huge fuss. They knew then there was no way Svetlana would leave me and if they wanted her they’d have to take me too.”
“I don’t understand why—”
“Don’t you see? She saved me. She fought for me and refused to give up until she knew I’d be in the safest place possible, and that place was with her.”
He shakes his head, almost as if he’s battling against my words, trying to physically push them from his ears.
“Even in her death, she saved me.”
His gaze jumps to mine, jaw slack.
“Her death brought me to you.”
“If you believe that, then stay with me.” He leans forward. “Don’t do this. It’s not worth it.”
He doesn’t get it. I crawl off the bed to the floor in front of him. His eyes watch me warily as I push to sit on my knees between his open feet. “She was sliced from here”—I turn my head and run my finger from my ear to the corner of my mouth—“to here. Like they were trying to cut her jaw from her face.”
He turns away. “Stop, I don’t—”
“Look at me.”
His eyes dart back to mine then follow my finger to my neck.
“Then to here.” I trace my fingertip down the side of my breast, making X’s at my nipples. “Here.” I slide my finger down my sternum and across my stomach. “Here he criss-crossed.” Back and forth I drag my finger across my bellybutton, lower to between my legs. “All the way down.” I lower my hand until—
He catches my wrist hard and tosses my hand away. “Fuckin’ enough! I got it.” He rubs his eyes, as if the visual is playing in his head. “So, what? You plan on seducing this man to get him to spill?”
The simple answer is yes. It’s worked before. The right combination of liquor and my body has loosened Hatchet’s lips in the past. I know I can do it again. I have to. “It works.” My cheeks heat with shame.
“Men aren’t that stupid.” He grimaces as if he hears the lie in his own words.
“Women have been using their bodies to get what they want since the beginning of time.”
He doesn’t respond.
“I’m begging you, Mason, to let me do this for her. I’m asking you to wait for me. Please, don’t let this be good-bye.”
“I can’t. I . . .” He drops his head back and closes his eyes. “Knowing that you’re giving your body to someone else, sharing yourself with another man, is more than I can handle, Trix.”
“My body is just a shell. It’s—”
“Nothing but skin and nerves. I know. You’ve made that clear.”