Page 8 of Jump or Fall
“Why would I want that?” Her eyes continued to dart around the room, searching for a way out of the situation.
He stood up from the chair and stepped closer. She almost backed away, but she was tired of being pushed around. Maybe he would kill her, and it would all be over.
Instead of hurting her, he stopped and pointed at her fresh wound. “I don’t believe you’ve accepted this as just part of life.”
Mara locked eyes with him, searching for the truth. He was tall and intimidating at first glance, but something about him was disarming. His dark brown irises held intensity, but also an unexpected softness.
She shook her head. “I can’t help you. If you’re telling the truth, then you know what he does to people.”
“I’m aware.” His brows lifted. “That’s why he needs to be eliminated. We need your help.”
She laughed bitterly. “Thank you, strange man, who broke into my home. I’m convinced. I’ll risk facial mutilation and whatever else the head of fucking state security can think of to help a man who won’t even tell me his name.” She pointed at her arm. “You know why I got this one today? I hit his disgusting nephew who’s about to become an enforcer. That’s what I got for defending myself. Do you know how much worse it would’ve been if I hadn't fought back?”
The stranger studied her with a flat expression.
Finally, in a gentle voice he said, “Gordon Rusu.”
“Okay, Gordon. Now tell me—who are you, and how do you intend to ‘eliminate’ them?”
He paused, thinking about how to answer. “I know the system inside and out—including how to exploit the flaws. We plan to disentangle the web of control by exposing their spies and taking them out. While doing so, we cripple their ability to retaliate.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“I can’t share that unless you become involved beyond selling me a suit.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, weighing her options.
“I know you have no reason to trust me,” he added, “but we’re on the same side. I’m only asking for a suit. Nothing more.”
She sank back onto the couch, finishing her whiskey and chasing it with the shake. The combination was vile, but she needed the energy. Something about yelling at this man made her feel a little lighter—or maybe it was drinking on an empty stomach.
If Gordon had wanted to hurt her, he would have done so by now. She’d been unconscious when he came in. Getting involved in his scheme, though—that would be dangerous. Even if it was something as small as a suit.
She turned his words over in her mind. Why did she even care? She’d been teetering on the edge, wishing it all would end, but too afraid to actually jump.
Perhaps the jump didn’t have to mean swallowing the collection of pills on the table. Maybe she could do something worth more after years of complacency.
Mara peered up at the scarred man observing her. His face might as well have been carved from stone for all it conveyed. “Gordon, do you drink whiskey?”
If he was taken aback, it didn’t show. He wordlessly retrieved the bottle and a second glass from the kitchen.
He set the glass down beside hers, along with a box of crackers, and filled both glasses before retreating to the armchair.
Why’d he bring food out? Oh, he was here when she was throwing up.
Heat crept up her neck.
“How long have you been here?” she asked, keeping her eyes lowered.
“I came in sometime after you started your… rest on the floor. I made sure you were still breathing, then did a bug sweep while I waited for you to come around.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. All this effort to maintain the image of someone put together, and now a total stranger had seen under her mask. Had he been watching when she took her shirt off?
Shame burned through her skin. It was like she’d been stripped bare.
Maybe he didn’t see anything.
“How did you get past the cameras?” she asked, desperate to change focus. “How’d you even get in?”
