Page 42 of Moros

No one else seemed stunned.

“I’m going to get us something to drink.” Pasha offered.

I opened my mouth to tell her that I was fine, but she was already out of the room before I could.

“Who’s Marshall Clark?” I asked instead.

“A man who’s going to be dead when I get my hands on him.” Khadri growled.

“Okay, Daddy,” Boswell said, softly. “Down boy. We need to know what he knows before you kill him.”

“Let me work.” Tex told us.

Khadri nodded and Tex cut the call.

We continued through the tape—Pasha returned and while I wasn’t thirsty, she’d done something nice for us and I didn’t want to come off like an ungrateful bitch.

We finished the video—watched it a second time while going through our cold drinks. They talked around me as I delved into my head, trying to remember if there was somewhere else I’d seen Marshall.

Maybe not even Marshall, but someone who was lurking around that shouldn’t have been in a certain space.

Were they following me around?

If they had been, how long?

That would explain how they knew where I worked, where I lived—but since I had no life, I didn’t frequent many other places.

On Saturday nights, while other women my age was out partying, I was in bed by eight—watching Chinese Dramas and shoving junk food into my face.

Sundays the diner was closed.

I would sleep all day then felt guilty for wasting the day.

Boswell stood and Khadri offered to walk him out.

I was left alone with Pasha who was staring at me.

I wished I had my phone to play a game even though the battery wouldn’t last very long. But that would hold me over until Khadri returned.

“I’m not sleeping with Moros, you know?” Pasha broke the silence.

I closed my eyes.

Squeezed them tightly.

“Whether you’re sleeping with him or not is none of my business.” I informed her. “That’s between you and him.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want to find out who’s trying to kill me then go back to my life.” I lifted my chin to glare at her. “I have no intentions of stealing your man, so stop throwing yourself at him each time I enter a room like you’re trying to make me jealous.”

“Aren’t you?” Pasha leaned forward. “Jealous, I mean.”

“Pasha!” Khadri barked from the door.

She gasped and almost fell off the chair.

Taking that time to rise, I headed for the door, shoved by Khadri into the hall before stopping.

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