by Nicole Fox
“Hmm,” Dorian said, clearly thinking it over. “I do think that's the safest option. If you're nervous about this, you're not the best person to be smuggling them in anyway. It's in their best interest to find someone else. A nervous man makes stupid mistakes and is really obvious to those trained to look out for nervous ticks.”
“Exactly,” I said. I sighed. “Now the question is just convincing Gabi to come pick up the packages—sooner, rather than later. And convincing her that Jess isn't a liability.”
“Except that she is, and she'll remain one—even if the plan is executed successfully. She knows exactly who was involved, at every step of the way.”
“So what, you think she deserves to be killed off as well?” I asked, surprised. Dorian had a reputation for being fair and merciful; that he would order Jess's death, when she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, didn't seem like him.
“Of course I don't think she deserves to be killed,” Dorian said, sounding exasperated. “I'm appalled that you would think that. But I do understand where Gabi is coming from if that's what she thinks. Jess is a liability, and you need to remember that.”
“So what happens to her, then?” I asked.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Dorian asked, a strange note in his voice. “You sound very reluctant to have anything bad happen to her. Protective, even.”
I scowled. “Of course I don't have feelings for her,” I snapped, even though that statement didn't exactly ring true. I shook my head. “I just feel guilty for dragging her into this mess, that's all.”
“All right,” Dorian said, but he didn't sound convinced. “She'll need to disappear. I'm sure we can help her out with that. But you would need to figure out some way of ensuring her silence over the whole thing—especially if you don't plan on going into hiding. You don't want her guilt to someday overwhelm her and have her send the police after you in ten or twenty years.”
“No,” I agreed. I frowned. “I'm not sure how we would keep her from talking, though. She's...actually a good person, Dorian. Money's not the thing that keeps her going.”
“Then you'll need to find out what is,” Dorian said simply. “In the meantime, I'd suggest having Gabi come to the hotel and take the packages off your hands. Then get yourself out of there as soon as you can.”
I hung up with Dorian and called Gabi, not sure if she would pick up since I knew she was probably still at work. But she did answer. “What?” she bit out.
“I don't think this plan is going to work,” I said, beginning to pace a little with agitation.
There was silence on the line for a moment, and I wondered if maybe she was moving to a more secure location. “I'll be there in five minutes,” she said.
When she stormed into the hotel lobby, she didn't look happy. “This had better be important,” she said. “I'm on my lunch break.” I looked around and decided that we were too exposed, so I dragged her into an empty room down the hall and shut the door behind us.
“Look,” I said, “I signed up to transport a delivery. I didn't sign up to smuggle things into a federal prison. This is insane.”
“You signed up to deliver a package,” Gabi corrected. “You knew all along that that package was destined to end up in the hands of Katia Sin. You must have known you were meant to deliver it into a prison!”
“Except that as far as I was told, I was meant to deliver the packages to you,” I said. “And that's what I want to do. The packages are upstairs in the room. I'll give them to you now. And you can handle having them smuggled into the jail in some other way. Get someone else to do it. Or do it yourself. I don't care, but I'm not going to be involved in this any further.”
Gabi sneered at me. “What, got cold feet? I would have expected better from you, Thorn. Dorian always talked so highly about you.”
“Don't bring Dorian into this,” I snapped. “I don't care if you think I'm chickenshit or whatever else; there's nothing you can do to make me bring those packages in to the jail.”
“Oh really?” Gabi asked. “You don't think that Katia has ways of dealing with people she's displeased with? We have to follow her orders or else everyone loses. I don't get my sister back, and you probably lose your life. So does Jessica Harper. You should have thought things through a little more, maybe, before you accepted this mission, but it's too late to change anything now.”
“Katia isn't stupid,” I persisted. “She must know that this is a risky plan. All we have to do is come up with some other sort of plan. It shouldn't be that difficult; she has you as an access point, and she has Romeo as well. I'm sure she has other ways of getting this package smuggled into the jail.”
“She gave these orders!” Gabi exclaimed. “She told us that this was the way it was going to be done. You have to uphold your end of the bargain—or else face the consequences.”
“Just take the god-damned packages,” I snarled. “Take the packages, talk to Katia, and figure out some other way!”
Gabi narrowed her eyes at me. “I'm not taking those packages,” she snarled. “I will talk to Katia, but I'm not taking them. I'll let you know when you can deliver them.” With that, she turned and stalked out of the room. I was tempted to go after her, to grab her, to force her to listen, but I could tell that wouldn't do any good. She was just going to continue to refuse to take the packages.
She was more scared of Katia than I was, that much was clear. So I had to make sure that Katia herself changed the plans. And that meant that I had to go see Katia in prison.
I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face, debating calling Dorian back. But I didn't want him to be even more entangled in this than he already was. Anyway, it was about time I went upstairs to check on Jess and let her know the latest.
Chapter Seventeen
Thorn
Walking into the prison gave me the chills, even though I was on the visitation side of the glass, and even though I wasn't carrying the packages with me that day. Romeo raised an eyebrow at me when he saw me there. I recognized him from photos with Katia, and he clearly recognized me as well, probably from something in his own mission briefing.
I didn't stop to talk to him; I did my best not to let on that I even recognized him. I didn't bring any of the packages for a reason, but I didn't need to stand there discussing that fact with him where anyone could overhear us.
Instead, I sat on one of the chairs and waited for Katia to be brought out.
Even in prison, Katia looked good. She had always been an attractive woman, with her aristocratic features and long, dark hair. She didn't seem surprised to see me, and I wondered if that meant Gabi had already spoken to her about my refusal to uphold my end of the bargain.
I glanced around as I picked up the receiver. The visitation room was mostly empty, meaning there weren't many people who might overhear us. Except that that also meant it was pretty quiet in there and anything I said, I could expect to be overheard by the guards. I would need to be careful about what I said and make it seem like this was just a routine visit from one friend to another.
“How are you doing?” I asked, in the spirit of keeping things friendly.
Katia rolled her eyes. “How do you think I'm doing, here in this federal prison?” she asked. But her eyes glinted a little with amusement, and I could tell she appreciated the attempt at small-talk. “I've been waiting for someone to come visit me,” she said. “Other people have family members who bring them sweets and razors and all sorts of other things that we have a hard time getting here. But I don't have any family members to bring me those things.”
I paused, wondering how to spin off from that into what I wanted to talk about. I was thankful that she had at least given me that much of an opening. “I'm not sure I would be able to deliver packages for you,” I said slowly. “It seems like that would be a little risky.”
Her brows drew together, but she didn't seem surprised to hear that. “As long as you didn't do anything suspicious, it shouldn't be a
problem,” she said.
Fortunately, the room was beginning to fill up with other people visiting their loved ones, and the chance that we would be overheard was becoming less and less likely. I leaned in close, talking lowly into the receiver. “Look, Katia, I just don't think this is such a good idea,” I told her. “There has to be a better way.”
Katia shrugged a little, but she didn't seem too concerned by what I was saying. “I think this is the best way,” she said. “Unless you don't think that you can be a part of this.”
“I don't,” I admitted. “The thing is, I thought I was just delivering the packages to...” I trailed off, having enough sense, at least, not to say Gabi's name. “I just didn't think it was going to go this far,” I finished.
Katia pursed her lips, looking through the glass at me. But she didn't seem upset. “All right,” she finally said. “Maybe we need to figure out a different way. I'll talk with my connections and see what we can come up with.” She narrowed her eyes, though. “But don't think that I'm going to forget about this, Thorn Riley.”
I swallowed hard, even though I had known that something like that was coming, that there must be some sort of a catch. She'd figure out another way, but there was no telling what she might do to me. She didn't seem overly disappointed, but there were sure to be some sort of repercussions.
“Thank you,” I said, though. There wasn't really anything else that I could say. But in the spirit of not looking suspicious, I decided to keep talking. “So tell me about...” I trailed off, giving her a sheepish look. Small talk had never been my strong suit, and I couldn't lie and say she didn't intimidate me a little.
Katia laughed a little, tossing her hair back. “You want to know about life in prison?” she asked. “I'm sure we can arrange to have you locked up as well.” Her eyes glinted, and I wondered what I had just done. Before I could say anything — and what was I going to say? — she hung up her receiver, stood up, and walked proudly out of the visitation room, without looking back.
I swallowed thickly again and stood up as well, turning to head for the door. My mind was whirling, going through all the possibilities of what she could do to me, of what sort of information she had on me that she could use to get to me.
But there was no way to know for sure what she would do to me. I wouldn't know until it happened.
Chapter Eighteen
Jess
After Thorn had caught me with Emmanuel in the lobby, I knew I should stay put in the room. In fact, I was lucky that Thorn had left me alone again, despite the fact that I'd called Emmanuel the previous day. I might have expected him to tie me up or otherwise ensure that I didn't go anywhere while he was gone this time. But he was surprisingly courteous about it.
I suppose he knew I didn't really have much of a chance to escape. I had no way to get home now, not without Emmanuel's car to drive me, and anyway, I knew Thorn would just find a way to track me down if I tried to run. As much as the thought of that thrilled me, in some ways, I knew better than to try.
But I was going stir-crazy stuck up in the room. Finally, around mid-afternoon, I decided there couldn't be too much risk in my going out to lunch.
There was a dingy little diner not too far away from the hotel, and I chose that as my destination. It was kind of nice to be on my own for the first time in days, relaxing, even. The food wasn't great, but I didn't even really care at that point.
I finished up and glanced at my watch. About time to be getting back to the hotel so I could make sure and beat Thorn back there. I had left a note for him on the bedside table so that he would know I had just gone out for food, but I also sort of wanted to beat him back there and maybe not tell him that I'd gone out at all. I didn't think he'd be too happy with me, regardless of how innocent it was for me to go out to eat lunch on my own.
There were a couple people standing around the lobby when I returned to the hotel, but I thought nothing of it. They were probably just waiting to check in. I glanced over and it didn't look like there was anyone at the desk at the moment. I rolled my eyes, hardly able to believe the lack of service at the place. Thorn really knew how to pick them…
I was most of the way across the lobby when the gunshot rang out. I didn't really know how I recognized the sound as a gunshot. It could have been a car backfiring or ... well, I didn't really know, but I wasn't the type to watch crime shows or anything like that. (Funny, that that should be what was going through my mind, when there was clearly so much more that I should be thinking about.) Then again, it made sense that my nerves would be on a hair trigger given everything that Thorn had told me lately.
Instinctively, I dropped to my belly on the linoleum floor, hands up over my head as though that would do anything. There was nowhere to really duck for cover, though. I didn't even know where the bullet had come from. But when I glanced to the right, I saw where it had landed. One of the security guards was slumped there against the wall, bleeding from a hole in his chest. He was clearly dead.
The clear, clicking sound of someone walking in high heels reverberated throughout the lobby. I rolled over and stared up at the woman striding towards me, a gun held in her outstretched hand, the barrel pointed straight at my heart.
“Jessica Harper,” the woman said, rolling my name around in her mouth. She grinned a little, cocking her head to the side. “You definitely don't look like the type of woman who would get involved in all of this, but I suppose that's why they're worried about you running to the authorities, isn't it?”
I wanted to respond but found that I couldn't; I could only stare dumbly as the woman crouched down next to me, reaching out to stroke the barrel of her gun down my jawline.
“You seem to have gotten in over your head, my dear, as has Thorn, if we're being honest.” She shook her head. “But if Thorn doesn't uphold his end of the bargain? Well.” Her eyes flicked over towards the security guard; the meaning of her words was clear.
I shook my head, though. “I can't make Thorn deliver the packages,” I said, my voice barely audible. My throat felt dry; my tongue thick and unwieldy.
The other woman laughed. “Well, you'd better see what you can do about that,” she said. “After all, I wouldn't want to have to come after you. You're too pretty for me to kill, and I hate killing innocents.” She paused. “Not that you really qualify as that anymore.” The woman stood up and finally put her gun away. “Make sure Thorn delivers the package on the schedule that he agreed to,” she said, her final, unspoken warning hanging in the air between us.
Then, the woman turned and tapped her way out of the lobby.
I took one last look at the security guard before fleeing to the room I was sharing with Thorn. I knew I needed to call the police and report what had happened. Someone was bound to find the security guard lying there in the middle of the lobby, and there was bound to be some sort of video surveillance showing what had happened.
Even though I hadn't really been involved in that shooting, I knew there would be questions to answer: why hadn't the woman killed me as well? What was the woman talking about, when she said that Thorn had to deliver the packages?
I was honestly a little surprised that the woman, whoever she was, had been so bold—even I could tell that she had just jeopardized the whole package delivery, just for the sake of scaring me.
Unless… Suddenly, I realized with a sinking feeling in my gut that there must be more to the story than what I'd seen. The Sigma Saints were smart, and there was a reason it had been so difficult for the authorities to put Katia Sin behind bars in the first place. Either the woman gunman herself or someone she was working with must have compromised whatever video evidence there might have been. They must have dealt with the receptionist. The only living witness to what had happened was the gunman herself and...me.
I swallowed hard, sitting on the edge of the bed as suddenly the world began to get fuzzy around the edges. The thing was, I had known that I was involved in something dangerous, but I had kind of refu
sed to realize just how dangerous things were. But I had become another pawn for the Sigma Saints; they were using me to get to Thorn.
And suddenly, I realized that there were other pawns involved in this too. There were ways that they could force me to act, other than by threatening my own life.
They could go after Brent.
For a moment, I thought I was going to be sick. I had my phone out and was dialing his number before I remembered that my phone was dead at the moment. Frustrated tears sprang to my eyes, and I moved over across the room to use the hotel phone, praying that he would still pick up a phone call from an unrecognized number.
The phone rang twice before Brent's voice came on the line. “Hello?”
I practically sobbed with relief. “Brent,” I said, pressing the receiver tightly against my ear. “Brent, listen to me. You have to get out of town, okay? Just for a little while, just until I can make sure everything's okay for you. I just—I've made a big mistake. I wanted to be more adventurous, but this...”