Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Finnic
It takes longer than it should to make myself step back inside.
The cold had built goosebumps across my skin, so when I finally cross the threshold into the warehouse, it greets me with a slight change in temperature. It’s warmer than out there and that is all that matters.
With her father already in Viktor’s hands, this should be done. Whatever answers we’d needed are being carved out somewhere far from here. Keeping her now feels absolutely pointless.
I round the corner to see Dante retreating from her room.
“You good?” he asks, adjusting his gloves.
“I’m not going to fuck this up, if that’s what you’re actually asking.”
His mouth twitches, but not into a smile. “Just the words I wanted to hear.”
He doesn’t move away from the door. He lingers there, weirdly looking as if he wants to block me from it. Safeguarding isn’t the right word. Domineering fits better, and that realization settles eerily in my chest.
“Were you in there awhile?” I question.
Dante follows my line of sight to the door, then looks back at me slowly. “Had to make sure she wasn’t going to try and escape again.”
I scoff. “Her ankles are tied together. I don’t see her running from us this time.”
Dante’s jaw flexes. “You’d be surprised what people manage when they’re desperate.”
“Yeah, and to be honest, I can understand why she would be.” My eyes narrow. “Considering her father has already been caught and she’s still sitting in there like a fish out of water.”
His stare holds clear admonition. “Watch it.”
I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “Viktor has him, Dante. Whatever leverage we thought we needed from her is gone. So explain to me why she’s still locked in that room like she’s the answer to our endgame.”
He doesn’t answer right away. He just adjusts his gloves again, slower this time, like he’s buying himself time to think or to keep from saying something he can’t take back.
He speaks plainly. “She knows more than she’s letting on.”
“Oh, come on. You really think that girl in there has a bunch of hidden secrets?”
He shifts his weight, still standing in the way of the door.
“You’re not seeing the whole board,” he says.
He taps his foot on the ground a few times before speaking again. “You’re looking at one piece and calling the game.”
“And you’re holding onto a piece that doesn’t matter anymore,” I say, tone laced with irritation.
His foot stops tapping. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
I exhale slowly through my nose, trying to keep my patience in check. “You expect me to believe our boss is cool with us questioning this girl the next few days when we have the main key to everything sitting in another fucking warehouse?”
Dante nods. “Viktor signed off on it, which means our boss did. So, yes, I do believe that.”
I let out an annoyed huff. “Okay.”
His eyes harden. “Are we back to having a problem again?”
“I’m asking why,” I say. “Because from where I’m standing, this whole thing should’ve ended an hour ago, if not longer than that. Seems to me that you’ve known her father has been apprehended for an immense amount of time.”
Silence sits between us.
“She knows more than she’s saying,” Dante says, as if he wants that to end the conversation.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” He states firmly.
“Because she told you she knew more, or you’re just assuming because you see the worst in everyone?”
His expression doesn’t change, but something shifts behind his eyes.
“Just take it from me, kid. People like her always know more than they let on.”
I watch him more closely than I usually do. His tension is tight in his shoulders and the way his stance stays anchored to that door is as if it’s an extension of him.
“You keep saying I’m too close to this,” I say with a neutral tone, “but you’re doing the same thing yourself. You’re dead set on turning her into the villain just because she’s a rich politician’s daughter, not because she’s actually given you a reason.”
His lips press into a thin line. “Don’t turn this around on me, Finnic.”
“Well, my gut is telling me that this will go bad if we keep pushing.” I throw my hands in the air out of irritation.
“You really think no one else is looking for her? I could imagine her father has a bunch of dirty ass people on his payroll who are doing anything in their power to find him and her both.”
Dante steps closer, lowering his voice to a dangerous murmur.
“This has always been a bad situation, Finnic. The difference is you’re finally choosing to see it.
I mean, fuck. Most of the dudes we take are nobodies with a gambling addiction or something similar, and now we have New York State’s most beloved Representative’s daughter. ”
From behind the door, there’s nothing. No sound and no movement, but I can’t shake the odd feeling that she’s awake.
I glance over his shoulder at the door again, then shift my gaze back to him.
“And that’s exactly my point,” I say quietly. “She’s not some nobody. Keeping her here longer than necessary paints a big red target on our backs.”
Dante doesn’t look away from me. “You think I haven’t considered that?” He leans against the doorframe. “You think Viktor hasn’t?”
“Then enlighten me,” I shoot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like we should drop her off somewhere random and wash our hands of this entire situation.”
Dante grimaces and then straightens from the doorframe slowly.
“Drop her off,” he repeats sarcastically. “You really think she’s gonna walk away scot-free after this?”
“I assume she’d at least leave this ordeal alive, yes.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says.
He then walks away from the doorway he’s been guarding and trudges by me, but not before shoulder checking the fuck out of me on the way out.
This is easily the strangest situation I’ve ever been dropped into, and that is saying a lot considering Dante has been my partner through most of the worst ones in the last year. Nothing about this follows the usual rhythm of things.
I can’t deny the pull of empathy toward her, no matter how much I try to shut it down. At the same time, I can’t ignore the way Dante is acting. He is almost… invested in a way that doesn’t sit right with me.
He keeps talking about boards and pieces and moves like this is all some elaborate fucking setup meant to be won. And maybe that’s how he survives it, by flattening everything into something controlled.
But it bothers me. A lot. Because the more he frames it like a game, the easier it seems for him to forget that there is an actual person caught in the middle of it.
By dawn, she will either let something real slip and buy herself a chance at survival, or she will finish writing the ending herself.