Page 43 of Lock Up the Darkness

Her throat worked and she tried so hard to school her expression, to keep that shudder of fear from breaking through. But knocked off-kilter as she was, she couldn’t quite manage it to the degree that was required to convince somebody as perceptive as me.

“I rarely drink, but when I do, it’s tequila all the way.”

Hmm. “Tequila. Interesting.”

“Interesting?”

I gestured at an unopened bottle. “Glass or straight from the source?”

“I’ll pass,” she said, still guarded. Then she surprised me as she added, “But I will take a smoke.”

I smiled to myself. There it is. She’d started down the road of cooperation.

Very slightly, but in situations like these, small victories were actually worth a great deal.

I drew a cigarette from the pack in the inside pocket of my suit jacket, then fired it up for her, before handing it over.

I watched as she took it between her pouty lips and dragged hard, her eyes rolling back a little as she savored the sensation of the nicotine infusing her system.

A woman after my own heart.

“You’re military trained.”

She stilled on bringing the smoke to her lips for another drag. “Am I?”

“Nice tactic. If not just a tad transparent.”

“Tactic?”

“Answering my questions with other questions. It gives the impression of cooperating without actually furthering the conversation—or the actual cooperation—at all.” I snatched an ashtray from between the bottles of liquor and placed it down between us as I pulled up a stool across from her. I tapped my smoke, dispelling some excess ash, then eyed her through the smoke wafting between us. “That won’t work with me.”

“You want explanations, you want answers, for me to spill my guts, then give me something in return.”

“Ask.”

“And you’ll actually answer me? You won’t evade my questions, or attempt to shut me down?”

“That depends on the questions, doesn’t it? But if you don’t try, you’ll never achieve what you wish to.”

“Fine,” she muttered. “Did you engineer every unfortunate situation I’ve encountered since stepping foot in Hexwood?”

I smiled and counted off on the fingers of my free hand, “The overly friendly passerby who bothered you while you were moving in? Check. The supposedly drunk customer at Fusion? Check. Liza becoming your friend? Check. Killian reading you the riot act? Check. Him then delivering a lesson for your insubordination and obstinance? Check. This entire night, including baiting you here, then ending in your clash with Jonah? Check.” I dragged on my smoke. “The finger-fucking part was all the two of you, if we’re getting technical. Although, it was my belief that it would lead to that. Over an eighty-five percent chance, actually, according to all the research I’d amassed on you.”

Expecting her to be livid foremost and to feel violated as a close second, I was actually surprised when what greeted me was a sly lift of her lips. “You really are another level, aren’t you?” she said, oddly impressed.

“I have to be.”

Our eyes locked, a charged moment in time.

And then she blew out a breath and actually revealed frankly, “So do I.”

“Because you’re here for something in particular, aren’t you? Something far beyond Hexwood U? Something in my domain that you need me to grant you access to. But you had to feel me out first—through the easiest access point being Killian.”

“You were doing the same to me as you’ve just outright admitted. Not just unapologetically either, but proudly.”

I grinned. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had a worthy opponent.”

She grinned back as she kept her eyes on me while she stubbed out the last vestiges of her cigarette. “And now you think you have me all figured out? Especially after tonight.”

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