6. Bradley
brADLEY
The mysterious woman who shot me actually works for the store she robbed.
It’s beautifully ironic. After Valentina put my description out in the world, the first thing Damian did was check all employees, and lo and behold, the keycard that was reported stolen two days before the robbery belongs to the exact description of the woman I saw.
Zirconia Roberts.
All color drains from her face when she lifts her head and locks eyes with me, and a weak shade of gray replaces it. If not for my request to handle this personally, Damian would have killed her as soon as they found out she was still living at her address.
Everything about this reeks of rookie, arrogant thieves who have no idea who they stole from, and given that Zirconia turned up to work acting like nothing’s happened, it’s clear she has no clue whom she works for.
“Good afternoon.” I smile politely while Zirconia remains locked in place, staring at me like she’s seen a ghost. Her striking blue eyes gleam like two beautiful sapphires and her dark hair’s lost some of its sleek shine I recall from the night she shot me.
“Here you go.” Another staff member, Jenni by her nametag, brushes past me and places a paper cup of water in front of Zirconia. “Oh, my God, Zira, are you okay? You look dreadful!”
Zira doesn’t speak. She’s transfixed, staring at me with a mix of shock and horror flittering across her rather beautiful face. With her mouth open and her eyes wide, she looks seconds away from passing out, so I clear my throat to direct attention away from her.
“I was just explaining to her that I was here last week, during the robbery.”
Jenni glances up at me and her eyes widen.
“Oh, my God, I remember you! You were looking for a watch for someone and then… wait, the robbers took you from the store, didn’t they?
” She throws a glance back at Zira. “Zira, you should have seen it. He was so brave protecting Mrs. Weatherly, and then he left without a fuss. I can’t believe they didn’t hurt you!
” Jenni’s hand lands on my arm, and her eyes widen as she feels the tight muscle underneath.
“I suppose they weren’t much of a hassle for a man like you. ”
Just like that, the charm is on. Jenni cocks her hip as she tucks hair behind her ear and smiles warmly up at me.
“They were all talk,” I assure her. “They let me go not long after they escaped, and I’m sure it won’t be long until they’re apprehended.”
“I hope so,” Jenni agrees. “Scum like that deserve everything that’s coming to them.”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Zira’s mouth snapping closed.
“Anyway, I’m sure we can secure you a discount after what happened. Are you still in the market for a watch?” Jenni asks.
I let my attention wander back to Zira. “Actually, Zira here was just telling me about a new collection that arrived this morning. Something about emeralds and white leather?”
“Zira!” Jenni scolds quickly. “Those haven’t launched yet. What on earth are you doing telling customers about them!” Her hand remains on my arm.
“I have insider information,” I reply warmly. “I’m friends with the owner.”
“Oh?” Jenni all but purrs. “Well, I’d be happy to show you—”
“Actually,” I cut in gently, “I’d like Zira to show me, please.”
There’s a beat of hesitation and Jenni’s smile wavers at the corner, then she nods quickly and removes her hand from my arm. “Zira, what are you waiting for?”
“Right.” The word squeezes out of Zira like air escaping a balloon and she finally moves away from the counter. “We… we keep the private p-pieces in the back, so if you’d follow me.”
As Zira leads the way through a white door at the back, I catch a snippet of hushed conversation between Jenni and another employee as she complains that Zira’s acting like she’s lost her marbles.
I hardly blame her. Given the nature of her shock, she probably thought I was dead.
Keeping my distance, I follow Zira’s wobbling steps down a long hallway to a cluster of doors at the end.
She leads me into the farthest one and holds the door open for me, her gaze at the ground.
Every second that passes, I expect her to run and make a break for it, but for some reason, she goes through the motions of closing the door and walking toward the wall of lockboxes situated at the far end of the room.
I follow and as soon as she’s close enough, I have her by the neck and I lightly shove her up against the wall.
She stumbles on her heel and hits the wall with a yelp, then spins to face me so quickly that her hair whips against my cheek like a thousand tiny lashes.
As she presses against the wall, I lean fully into her and brace one arm on the wall above her to cage her in.
The other presses to the wall near her shoulder, and our gazes lock as a look of sheer horror flashes across her face.
“A–Are you here to kill me?” she gasps out, trembling so violently that the looser metal doors behind her click slightly.
“Why would I do that?” I ask, my voice as level and as calm as it always is.
Her forehead glistens with sweat and her eyes dart back and forth between each of mine as if she expects to see something more horrifying within each pupil.
A bead of sweat rolls from the sheer scarf around her neck and down to her cleavage, straining against the buttons of her blouse.
From this angle, the bruise she’s hiding with the scarf is visible near the seam.
I breathe in, and soft floral soap and sweat flood my nose.
Every detail tells me something about her.
She’s scared of me and likely of whoever gave her that bruise.
There’s a dullness to her hair and eyes and a slight gauntness around her cheekbones that’s barely hidden under hastily applied makeup.
Given how beautiful she was in her ID photo, it’s clear she’s barely holding herself together.
“I don’t know,” she gasps hoarsely. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Let’s not lie to one another.” I glance down her body and glimpse her hands clasping together while her fingers twist themselves into knots. “I want to know what you’re playing at.”
“Huh?” Her voice gives out completely, leaving her with nothing but a whisper.
“You shot me. Twice.”
Her eyes dart down to my chest where she scans every inch of my body, looking for hints of where she shot me and where I’m hurt. When she finds none, she glances back up at me with a whimper.
“Then you threw me in the river. Now you’re back at work, acting as if nothing happened. Mingling with the co-workers you terrorized and placing yourself right back into the store you robbed. I’m not a psychologist, but even I can tell that’s a really fucked up thing to do, wouldn’t you say?”
“It’s—” Her words catch in her throat and she stifles a cough while shaking her head. “It’s not what you think.”
“Isn’t it? Did you think I wouldn’t remember who shot me? It takes one cold son of a bitch to commit murder and then try to slot back into society like nothing happened.”
Zira’s hands fly to her mouth and tears flood her eyes, making them sparkle a thousand times brighter. “I didn’t… I-I mean, I did, but I… I didn’t put you in the river.”
My gaze remains locked on hers. “Right. Does that excuse the bullets?”
“No!”
“Is that how you justified it? If I died, it would have been the river and not your gun?”
“No! Look, I-I’m sorry, okay?” Despite the fat tears clinging to her lower lashes, she’s fighting her hardest not to give in and cry, but one touch from me and I’m certain she’ll completely fall apart. “I did what I had to do, okay? You couldn’t understand, you couldn’t ever!”
“Sorry for what, robbing three high-end stores?”
“Y-Yes!”
“Terrorizing countless innocent employees?”
“Yes!”
“What about ruining the businesses, sending chaotic ripples across the gemstone market? Turned some of those employees into people now too scared to leave their home? Or are you only sorry that you did it here?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Zira gasps. “I’m sorry for all of it, okay? If there were any other way then I— and I’m sorry, I am sorry I shot you, but I had no other choice, okay? No other choice.” She repeats it over and over between hoarse gasps for air. “You’d never understand.”
“Try me.”
Her eyes flutter closed and those tears roll slowly down her cheeks. “If you can afford to shop here, then your precious, perfect little rich life could never understand. I-I don’t have to explain myself to you!”
“I’m the one you tried to kill.”
“I didn’t— I mean, I didn’t want to but I…”
“You had to,” I finish for her. “So tell me why.”
“I can’t.” Pain floods her voice and she clutches her fingers together in front of her lips.
“I can’t. So… so do what you have to do.
Hit me. Kill me. Call the cops on me. Whatever you gotta do, just do it, okay?
Just…” Her shoulders sag suddenly, as if being caught is a relief to her and the prospect of a fate that could include death is somehow a mercy. “Just get it over with.”
I was right. Zirconia isn’t the mastermind behind whatever is going on here and my initial evaluation that she didn’t want to be a part of it is confirmed by her refusal to tell me anything.
Before I was part of the Suit, I put countless people in this exact situation.
Hands stained with blood and something precious in my grip that forces them to keep quiet.
Someone has something on her, something that she’s willing to die to protect.
After a moment of her staring fearfully at me, I push off the wall and sigh deeply. “I hoped we could have an open and honest conversation, Zirconia. You have to know you and the others can’t get away with this.”
“So call the cops,” she says weakly. “I’ll admit it. I did it all. Everything.”
The defeat in her voice creates a warm pulse of sympathy under my ribs, so I distract myself by adjusting my shirt. I’d planned to take her to Damian to be dealt with once I got my answers, but she’s a locked box, and without the key, I’ll remain in the dark. “I’m not calling the police.”
Her brows pull together, and she hastily wipes away a tear. “What?”
“I’m not calling the police.”
“But I tried to kill you. I thought I had.”
“I know. But you can do something else for me.”
Her eyes widen and drop to my crotch, then a flash of anger crosses her pale face like a shadow and she glares at me. “In your fucking dreams.”
“Not that.” What an odd conclusion to jump to. “The police aren’t who you should be concerned about. I know you’re not the leader of that gang.”
Her arms wrap tightly around herself and she watches my hand like a hawk as it slides into my pocket and I pull out a small, gilded card.
“The next time your group acts, call me.”
“What?” Her attention splits between the card I hold out to her and my eyes. “There isn’t going to be any more. We’re done, okay? It’s all over so just… just do what you gotta do, okay? Don’t torture me.”
“Take it,” I instruct, hardening my voice just a fraction. “Men like your leader are never done.”
The inflection in my voice makes her jump and she snatches the card from me, then stares at it in disbelief. “I don’t understand. I… I shot you and you’re giving me your card?”
“Call me,” I instruct as I walk away from her. “As soon as the next hit is decided, you call me.”
“What if I don’t?” Zira asks as she sniffles. “What if I run as soon as you leave me here?”
“You won’t.” I reach the door and pull it open.
“How do you know?”
“Because,” I say as I step outside, then I turn to face her still crumpled against the wall. “You owe me. So call me.”