Page 65 of The Truths that Deceive

Funny how trying to cry in fear was hard work, but fear for Smith, a man I admit I crave in a sexual way but am not sure if I like, the tears want to come.

I think if the man had hurt Smith, shot him, I’d have attacked him. I’d have cried for real.

What does that say about me?

Other than I’m fucked up.

I move around, stepping over the tray with the thick-cut sandwiches and the remaining bottle of water, to see if there’s some miraculous secret passage out. A giggle rises in my throat at the ridiculousness, and I swallow it down.

Like I’m going to press a brick and freedom and unicorns will be waiting to fly me the fuck out of this hellhole?

This isn’t Harry fucking Potter and no one’s locking us up with secret passages.

But I keep checking.

Finally, I collapse onto the floor, slumping back against the wall, wishing I had a weapon hidden. I rub a hand up under the long layer of hair that hides the undercut.

The door opens and Smith’s flung in. He lands on the ground, and I’m on my feet so fast, rushing to his side, my heart thumping.

He groans and I gently touch his face. He lifts his head, his blue eyes burning into me, lip bleeding but other than that, he looks fine.

“You should see the other guy.”

“You look fine,” I say as he pulls me into him. I hate myself for going, for leaning into him as his mouth presses to mine. He kisses me, tongue hot, seductive, the taste of his blood, of copper and salt, it all makes a heady mix.

The taste of Smith and blood.

“Looks,” he whispers, “can be deceiving. And it hurts. On the inside.”

I push him to lift his shirt, but he pulls my hand away. His mouth back at mine. “They’re coming to get me again. They want information on where you have the weapon shit. There’s a setup with a satellite computer. The cloud you mentioned?”

The cloud? “I told you I have one, but there’s nothing on it.”

“Bullshit. You’re under thirty, everyone has a fucking cloud. And they keep crap on it.”

I’ve got a couple, a personal one for not overly personal things, one for backup digital photos. And… I swallow. “Where are we?”

“Best I can work out, Cuba. But none of them are Cuban. Outskirts of Havana, is my best guess.”

Suddenly, I pull back. “How…?”

“Information gathering’s easy with certain people. These are grunts. Hired help from various countries. I don’t know who they’re working for, but they want the weapon info you have.”

“How…?”

“Think about it, Calista.” He slips a finger down my cheek and I can’t shake the feeling he’s playing me as well as these people. “You got people looking for you. Your employers want you. Someone powerful wants whatever you have.”

I take a shaky breath. “If you give them something, we’re dead. If you don’t, we’re dead.”

“No. I’m buying time. Time to trust me, Calista.”

I narrow my eyes. “But I don’t.”

“Fake it.”

Since I was younger, I’d store pointless stuff, things I made, code and fake info. A game I played with Henry when I was teaching him how to hack. He was only half-dedicated to coding and hacking. There was real stuff hidden there, but it wasn’t useful. And I was also trying to find ways to hide information in plain sight. Make it so I could have sensitive information almost out in the open and no one would know because even if they could get past all my firewalls and protections, they’d would still need the key to unlock what it all meant.

It's something I’d been working on with the CIA. And it’s also one reason why they wanted me. I could cipher cryptograms and break all sorts of codes others had tried to hide their information in.

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