Page 27 of Winter's End

I needed to withdraw some trust fund money and start putting plans into place. I’d need to call Hillary and?—

“Winter, would you mind coming to the rest-room with me?”

Marcie’s feminine squeak broke into my spiraling thoughts. I nodded mutely before shuffling out of the booth and leaving the men to their own devices.

I led her to the dingy, two-stall woman’s bathroom at the end of the hall, my nose wrinkling at Drew’s previous yeast infection comment. I’d definitely be hovering to pee.

The click of a lock echoed behind me.

I turned to see Marcie standing at the doorway, her back pressed against the dinged metal with her arms folded across her ample chest. Her entire demeanor changed from sweet and simple to fierce and assessing.

“Honey, you’re going to need to pretend better than that if we’re going to keep your father out of jail.”

I shook my head, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, what?—”

“I recognize you, you know.” She walked slowly towards me, a panther circling prey. We were no longer two women getting to know each other.

Unwittingly, I had stepped into her lair and was about to get eaten.

“After I saw you at Georgio’s Fight Night, I looked into you.”

Saliva filled my mouth. I was well and truly caught. By a woman who was far more Black Widowthan Daisy Duke.

All thoughts about a new woman entering my life for the potential better vanished.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time. But Darren insisted you weren’t ready. Does he know that his innocent little girl is playing tag with the FBI?”

I didn’t say a word, breathing slowly through my nose to control the panic bubbling up in my chest. I would not have a panic attack; I would not have a panic attack …

“It’s okay, honey.” I felt her presence in front of me now. I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes. Opening them, I found honey irises staring curiously at me. “You’re not in trouble here. But you are going to make him awfully suspicious with those acting skills.”

“Who are you?” I stammered, catching the scent of her cloying sweet perfume because she was so close to me.

She stepped back and plastered a wide, innocent smile on her face. “I’m Marcie.”

She moved to wash her hands, even though she hadn’t used the restroom. All urge to pee had left me, too. I had sweated my toxins out of my pores. I might never pee again.

She caught my gaze in the mirror.

“Your dad’s been my assignment for a very long time. This town has been my assignment for a very long time. If we can do our jobs, I might have a hope in hell of getting out of here.”

She turned back around to face me, leaning on the scratched ceramic counter. “There is no way that Darren will not have some blowback from this situation. But I’ve learned over the years that he’s a good man who’s made some bad choices. I’d like him to have as minimal fallout as possible when this empire finally crumbles down.”

“It was you who got him out,” I said out loud, understanding the truth of the words. “That’s how he made it out of Fight Night unscathed.”

She didn’t bat an eye, choosing instead to pick some imaginary lint off her sleeve. “I’ve protected him from a lot over the years. More than I should have.” She sighed and folded her dainty hands.

“Do you love him?” I blurted, needing to understand why she’d locked me in the cesspool washroom in the first place. Why else would she bother risking breaking her cover?

“I care about him,” she corrected, although to me, it just seemed like semantics. “Darren’s story is … sad.” She pushed off from the counter and walked back towards the door. “I hope he’ll share it with you one day.”

Before unlocking the deadbolt, she faced me once again. “So, chin up. We’re meeting for the first time. Get to know me, and I’ll get to know you. Be happy for your dad. Eat your chicken fingers.” She smirked at me as we left the dank space reeking of toilet bowl water and chicken grease. “Give poor Drew a break from talking.”

I followed her in a zombie state, processing the new bomb of information dumped over my head. New information, but I really knew nothing at all. Who did she work for? What assignment did she have? How did she know anything about me?

I looked forward to the day when I was not the last to learn something and had access to all the information the first time around. I was getting sick of being blindsided at every new encounter.

Logan had texted me yesterday, practically demanding I meet with him to work through my panic responses. I told him I’d rather shove a pine cone in my ass, but now, I was reconsidering.

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