Page 109 of Silenced

His eyes roll but he waves a hand. Out of nowhere, a woman appears. These ghost-like wraiths for staff are eerie but damn efficient.

Only when three book titles are written down do I snag the phone from the table where he placed it as soon as we were seated.

Originally, I thought it was him shoving my lack of freedom in my face, never imagining that he wanted me to contact my friend to let her know how I was doing.

Of course, I could always send an SOS to Savannah…

With his request that I tell her I’m okay, though, I finally can let it rest that she’s the reason I’m here. Not that I can blame her for my current position. Not when he’s right.

Damn him.

If he hadn’t gotten there first, I’d be in the hands of the Albanians and I doubt they’d be dressing me in Lanvin and Isabel Marant and force-feeding me pomegranates and orgasms and classic literature that I never wanted to read in college, never mind in my adult lifefor fun.

“You owe me a visit to a restaurant,” I decide to remind him, uncaring that I’m pushing my luck.

His lips twitch. “I haven’t forgotten.”

With another huff, I open a text conversation, aware that he’s watching me.

Me: Savannah? It’s me. Cassie.

**Two minutes later**

Savannah: Oh, thank FUCK! Where the hell have you been?

Me: I couldn’t get my hands on a burner cell.

Savannah: There are still pay phones somewhere out there, you know? As well as email? Ever heard of that miraculous invention?

Me: I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know what yours is, lol.

Savannah: You could have contacted me via my work email. It’s at the end of every article I write.

Savannah was a journalist-cum-whistleblower.

Me: I didn’t think to do that.

The lie trips off my fingertips easier than I’d like.

Savannah: Where are you?

Nikolai’s watching me, his gaze locked on my face rather than on the screen as I’d anticipated.

I’m getting used to that focus, even starting to appreciate his intensity in all honesty.

Which probably means I’m as insane as he is.

When it registers that he has my attention, both of us glance away.

Me: Oregon.

I look back at him and realize he read the message because his brows lift.

I don’t blame him.

I can’t sense if he’s agitated by this conversation, don’t know if he’s worried or not seeing as, like always, he’s expressionless.

Aside from his eyes.

---