Page 24 of The Amendment

“Hey. Where are you right now?”

“Uh, I’m at work…” I glanced across the street at the building that held my office, then back toward the sandwich shop I was standing behind. “Why?”

He sniffed. “Need another small favor.”

My jaw tightened instinctually. “What kind of favor?”

“I need to put something else in that room of yours.”

“What?” I demanded, keeping my voice low. “No. You said the one bag was all. And you’re supposed to only be keeping it there for a few days.”

“I know what I said, but plans have changed. Relax, it’sjust one more, slightly larger package. I’ll have everything out of there before you know it.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, thinking quickly. “Jim, look, I’ve already told you…I don’t want to draw attention to the fact that the room is even there in the first place. I can’t have my wife or kids finding it. I only go in that room when absolutely necessary. We can’t just keep—”

“It is,” he said, cutting me off. “It isabsolutely necessary,Greenburg. And since I’m doing you a favor and keeping quiet about the room, I thought you’d want to return the favor for me. Was I wrong?”

I heard the thinly veiled threat in his voice. “Come on, man. What are you doing? Are you really going to turn me in?”

“No,” he said, letting out a breath. “Of course not.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Then he added, “You wouldn’t be stupid enough to let it get to that… Would you?”

I shook my head, stepping back as a couple passed me on the sidewalk, still trying to keep my voice low. “Fine. But it’s just one more thing, right?”

“One more,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”

“Fine, you can come by tonight.”

“No, I need to come now.”

“Now? What are you talking about? I’m working. You’re supposed to be working. You can’t just come by when I’m not home.”

“So come home.”

“Jim, come on…”

He was silent. Waiting.

“Can’t it wait until tonight? I’ve got three meetings this afternoon.”

“So meet me now. It won’t take five minutes and you can still make your meetings.”

I couldn’t. Even if I made it home in thirty minutes—and that was best-case scenario—once we got the package in the room and left, I’d be late for my first meeting with a new client, which would push back the rest of my afternoon, making me late for everything. But what choice did I have?

I glanced at my watch.

“Fine. Half an hour.”

“Attaboy,” he said proudly. With that, the call ended and I abandoned my lunch plans, zipping back across the street toward the parking garage.

I had to hope this would be the last time Jim would ask for a favor. That this would buy his silence. But if it wasn’t, I had to deal with the fact that I could either live like this forever, or take matters into my own hands.

I’d promised Ainsley I wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

That there would be no more secrets.

But sometimes, our hands are forced.

Sometimes, the secrets don’t give you any choice.