Page 166 of Cashmere Cruelty

I fumble with a pair of black pearl earrings. This way, at least my shoes will match something.Except that even the earrings are refusing to cooperate.

I throw my hands up in despair. “Forget it. We should just cancel.”

“Absolutely not!” June thunders. “This is our first outing since you got jailed!”

“Put under protection,” I correct gently.

“To-may-to, po-tah-to.”

One earring goes in.Small victories.“That’s not how it goes, Jay.”

She blows me a raspberry in response. “I’m walking down to the car. If you’re not in the lobby in twenty minutes, I’m coming up to get you. And yes, that’s a threat.”

I prick my finger on my other earring. “Goddammit! Why won’t you just?—”

And then the doorbell rings.

“Coming!” I yell. “June, I think Petra’s here.”

“And I’m almost at the car,” June replies. “C’mon, don’t leave me hanging. You know I hate going down these creepy stairs alone.”

“It’s not the stairs that are creepy,” I point out. “It’s the neighbors.”

“Po-tay-to, to-mah-to.”

I throw the door open. “Again, that’s not how it?—”

The first thing I see is Petra’s face: red, tear-streaked, as if she’s been crying herself stupid.

The next thing I see is her gun…

And it’s pointed right at me.

“Hang up,” she orders. “Now.”

“Petra, what’s going on?”

“Hang. Up.” She shoves her gun into my face, silencer and all. “I’m not gonna ask twice.”

Automatically, I glance towards the spots my bodyguards usually are. I’ve long given up learning their names—lately I’ve just been calling them Big Guy and Tall Guy.

But now, I wish I’d bothered.

Both of them are on the ground. I can only catch a glimpse of their bodies, face-down on the hallway floor. Are they dead? I can’t tell.

Finally, my brain catches up to what’s happening.

Finally, it remembers to be afraid.

I obey Petra’s order. I hang up while June’s still talking, asking me something I didn’t catch.

I hope she didn’t recognize her. As far as I know, Petra’s never heard June’s voice before. Suddenly, I’m glad I forgot to mention her.

“Lena, Julia,” Petra calls over her shoulder. “Take care of the mess.”

Without a word, the twins drag the bodyguards away.

“You,” she barks at me. “In. Now.”

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