13. Evgeny #3
“Sounds to me like it’s the only one you’re going to get, and from where I’m standing, it’s looking pretty damn generous.”
“How will I get the news to write my articles, Ev?”
I lift my glass and gesture at myself. “I’m a journalist’s wet dream, Harper. You can’t get any closer to this case than me.”
“You expect me to believe that you’re going to help me? You, Mr. I-don’t-answer-questions-from-anyone, are going to suddenly become my informant?”
“I will, but I can’t tell you everything. I can keep you in the loop, though, and I can give you enough to stay one step ahead.”
The ice clinks in her glass when she takes another drink, and already I can tell the alcohol is hitting her.
There’s a soft flush to her cheeks, a loosening of her shoulders, and a slightly glassy look to her eyes.
She looks sexy as hell tipsy, and I’m so jealous of every man who’s had the privilege of touching her.
It makes it hard to focus on anything other than my desire to kill them for getting to experience her in a way that I can’t.
“They’re never going to let him go. You know that, right? What happens to me then? I mean, you’re a damn good lawyer, but so is Lang. She’s not going to drop the ball on this one.”
“And neither will I. Sasha didn’t do this.”
She studies me for a second. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I do. I know my cousin. He didn’t do this.”
The corner of her mouth quirks up when she asks, “Because he’s not capable of it?”
“No, because he had no reason to, and because there’s no way in hell he would’ve fucked it up like this.
If Sasha kills,” I pause and add, “and I’m not saying that he does, but hypothetically, if he were to kill someone, there would be a damn good reason for it, and you’d never know about it.
Think about it, Harper. You really think he’s stupid enough to leave that big of a mess behind?
If he were sloppy or stupid, and I can tell you he’s neither of those things, he would’ve been arrested years ago. ”
I stop and let my own mouth quirk up. “If he were a killer, that is.”
“Maybe it was a crime of passion,” she argues. “Maybe he was fucking her and things went bad.”
“Sasha would cut off his own dick before he cheated on Cindy. I’d bet my life on that one.”
Before she can try and argue with me again, I hold up my phone and say, “Hang on. The food’s here.” I start to head for the stairs, but then stop and look back at her. “If you scream, I’m going to tell him it’s a sex game you like to play.”
“What? You wouldn’t.”
“I would and I will. I’ll tell him you insist on roleplaying captive/captor scenarios. Mask kink, isn’t that what it’s called?” I ask with a grin. “But most importantly, I won’t be your source if you scream.”
She reaches for the bottle of vodka and refills her own glass. “Go get the food, Ev. I’m hungry, and I get really grumpy when I get hungry.”
“This is your good mood?” I ask, unable to resist.
“This is me being an angel. I decided not to try and stab you. I could always change my mind again.”
“I think the real reason you decided against it is because you were afraid you might accidentally hurt Watson. You were also injured. I’m not so naive I thought it was out of the goodness of your heart.”
She smirks at me before I turn to get the food.
Sticking to her word, she doesn’t scream bloody murder when I grab the food.
It wouldn’t do much good since I gave instructions to leave it by the carriage doors, but I was curious what she’d do if I asked her not to.
Seems Harper can behave when she wants to.
I’m not sure how exactly the dynamic is supposed to work in a situation like this, but I see no point in making her eat alone in the safe room.
There’s no way she can escape when I’m home.
If she manages to bypass the insane security Niki put in here and opens a door or window, I’ll get a notification on my phone the second she does it.
She’s trapped, so I hand her a full plate and a bowl of salad and motion for her to follow me to the couch.
She does, but she ignores the salad, setting it on the coffee table and then hiking her feet up and grabbing a greasy slice of pizza.
“Damn, that’s good,” she says, not bothering to wait to tell me that until after she’s finished chewing.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying your stay with me.”
She snorts out a laugh, making me think she’s a little drunker than I first thought.
“Yeah, I’ll give you five stars on Yelp for sure.
Clean, spacious safe room, luxurious furnishings when let out of my prison and allowed to roam free, work allowed but highly discouraged, and excellent room service. The ladies will be lining up.”
“I should’ve thought of this years ago,” I say, grabbing the remote and pulling up all the streaming channels before tossing it over to her.
“And I get control of the remote?” she asks. “Careful, Ev, or I might decide to never leave.”
There’s nothing I can say to that that won’t make me sound like an idiot or an asshole, so I stay quiet by taking a bite of pizza.
We eat in a comfortable silence that’s so completely at odds with our situation that it feels surreal enough to have me reaching for another drink because it’s impossible for me to process this sober.