Page 36 of Twisted Fate

“Even though there are parts of your job that you don’t like.”

“Even though,” I say. “My job isn’t just a job. It’s my family, my calling, my destiny, my identity. It’s part of who I am, for better or worse.”

I study her face, making sure she understands what I am telling her.

Family first. Always.

14

Alina

I wake on my side, Damian’s long body pressed against my back, his arm draped over me.

I had the best sex of my life with a man who is holding me prisoner.

Worse, I like the man who is holding me prisoner. I like that he listens when I speak, that he considers my words and questions. I like that he chose to share a little of himself with me. I like that he didn’t lose his temper when I called him spoiled.

I like the man who holds my brother’s life in his hands. Who holds my life in his hands.

A man who is a criminal, a killer, a villain.

A man who is holding me as collateral on a debt.

I have no illusions about who and what he is.

And yet…I like him.

I wriggle out from under Damian’s arm and rise, goosebumps prickling along my arms in the cool air. I grab my robe and shrug it on, wondering what time it is. Leaning over, I check his phone where it sits on the night table. It’s late. Or early. Depending on one’s perspective.

Wait. Damian’s phone.

Adrenaline kicks my pulse up a notch.

I glance at him.

This is my chance to call Markus, to make sure he’s okay. I hesitate. Maybe I should just wake Damian and ask. But what if he says no? He’ll probably say no.

But I’ve been so worried…

I kneel down beside the bed and slowly, so slowly, slide the phone across the sheets toward Damian’s hand. He doesn’t move, doesn’t stir, just keeps on breathing, slow and deep and even. I use his thumb to unlock the phone. It takes me three tries, three long, endless tries, my heart in my throat the whole time.

And then it’s unlocked and I bound from the room. I close the bedroom door behind me and quickly cross to the second bedroom at the opposite end of the condo.

After closing that door behind me, I start to dial Markus’ number, a little surprised when he comes up as a contact. But I guess that makes sense. Damian would want to have his number to follow up on the repayment schedule.

My call goes straight to voicemail.

I hesitate for a second and then say, “Markus, it’s me. Just want to let you know that I’m okay. Everything is okay. Damian is treating me well. Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself. I—” I almost tell him I love him. But that will definitely make him worry. Instead, I say, “I’ll see you soon,” and end the call.

I stand there in the dark, my thoughts spinning. I wish Markus had answered. I wish I could have spoken to him. I have no idea if he has a plan, if he’s been able to find his ex-girlfriend and the missing money, if he’s managed to gather any funds at all.

But maybe he’s texted Damian. Maybe…

Curious, I check the text history.

I’m surprised to see that it goes back months… no, years. I thought Markus just met Damian the night of the poker game. But no, that can’t be right. Because before Markus made that idiotic double-or-nothing bet that brought his total to a million fucking dollars, he said that he owed Damian a hundred grand from that night but he owed him a total of five hundred grand. Which meant that wasn’t the first time they’d played.

I scroll through the texts. There’s nothing specific. No chit chat. No friendly ribbing. I read everything carefully and realize that it’s just a series of texts where Damian summons Markus and Markus confirms, or Markus texts a single word: done. A couple of times he texts: usual place. There are no addresses or times or details. My gut is telling me that not all these texts are about poker games. Maybe none of them are. Markus has been doing something for Damian for at least two years, some sort of job. My stomach drops.

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