Page 59 of Confession
It takes him a moment to look up, but he manages it. His eyes are red-rimmed. Haunted. “Because when I met you I didn’t want to.”
“Why not?”
He looks away. “I just couldn’t.”
I grit my teeth at his non-answer. “So you reneged on the contract and saved your own skin. With evidence on Alesso?”
“I always gathered evidence on the people who hired me. It’s necessary. You have to have leverage.”
“Do you have leverage over me?”
“No.”
I don’t know whether to believe him. “You don’t have a little file of evidence just in case?”
“No, Vitali.”
I have to walk away from him. I pace across the room, trying to breathe.
“So why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “You could’ve confessed, could’ve given me the evidence to use.”
“I didn’t think you would forgive me.”
I turn back his way. I watch him swallow hard. I stalk toward him. “Am I supposed to forgive you? And what do I need to forgive you for? Lying to me? Planning to kill me?”
“No—”
“For leaving yourself an escape door to go back to the DiMaggios? Is that why you didn’t give me the evidence on Alesso—which I could’ve fucking used to end this goddamn war?”
“No, Vitali—”
I grab him by the throat and push him down onto the bed. “Why am I so easy to betray? Am I really such a fool?” I’m choking Quinn too hard for him to answer me. I don’t want him to answer me.
When I let him go and step back, Quinn sucks in a desperate breath
“Did you really kill Pedano to protect me? Or was it just to protect your secret?”
Quinn rolls onto his side and pushes himself up, still struggling to get his breath. “What does it matter when you won’t believe whatever I say?”
“No, I probably won’t. Not right now. All I want right now is cold, hard evidence. So fucking give it to me.”
Quinn’s hand is shaking as he reaches for the drawer of the nightstand. He pulls it open and reaches inside.
I huff, disgusted with myself as much as with him. “So that’s why you didn’t want me in that drawer.”
Quinn doesn’t answer. He just hands me a sealed envelope. It feels like it has a flash drive inside. On the front, in Quinn’s scratchy handwriting, it says,For Vitali, in case of my death. I’m sorry.
Something about that pings strangely inside me. I don’t understand it and don’t like it, but I know I’m not clearheaded right now. I’m angry and hurt and I need to sort some shit out before I deal with Quinn again. So I just let him put his head back in his hands, and I walk the hell out.
NINETEEN
Quinn
As I drive the familiar route into the city, my plan makes more and more sense to me. It feels right.
More than right. It feels inevitable.
The movement of the car and the shine of the headlights over road signs helps me calm down. My hands stop shaking. I stop seeing his eyes looking at me with all that rage and hurt and betrayal.
