Page 58 of A Secret and a Lie
He’s shed the bulletproof vest, wearing only black boots, tactical pants, and a fitted FBI-issued T-shirt. It’s a look so at odds with the expensive suits he usually dons. How much of this was a lie? Does he even run Crawford Enterprises? How could I have been so foolish?
He casually drops the contents in his hands onto thetable with an audiblesplat. I remain stone-faced as he takes a seat, in a chair that, apparently, isn’t bolted to the floor. His gaze dips to the notebook between us, but I don’t reach for it. I know what it says, though I do long to run my hands over the worn, dyed leather.
“Do you recognize this journal?” he asks, his voice glacial.
My face is impassive, but it’s deeply disturbing that he got into my hidden safe. There’s no use commenting on that, though, or even dwelling on the violation of privacy.
When I don’t reply, he tries again. “Can you help me make sense of the contents?”
I say nothing. Of course I won’t help him decipher my code. I spentyearsdeveloping it. It’s perfectly impenetrable. There’s not a software on earth that can crack it, of that I’m certain. I tested it myself. The symbols are entirely made of my own imagination.
He sighs. “Look, Gen,” he starts, and I grit my teeth against the moniker. I should’ve made him continue to call me Allie or Allison. That’s the name I’ve chosen for a reason. It’s safer, and more fitting for this chapter of my life.
Things are far too personal now. How stupid was I to, not only give him my real name, but the shortened version that the people I’m closest to use. “I can’t help you, if you don’t help me.”
I stifle the urge to roll my eyes so hard I could pop a blood vessel. This man hashelpedme plenty, and I’m not interested in any further assistance from him.
“What about a client list? Surely, you have one of those. Is that what’s in the journal?” His voice echoes through the concrete chamber, and I think I hear his every word more than once, but that could be dehydration and anxiety rattling me.
He’s stupid if he thinks I’ll be using my bargaining chip at this moment.
Still, I remain quiet. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest, his muscles bulging in a way I donotwant to find attractive. His eyes drill into mine as we stare each other down, the unspoken words bubbling between us louder than the silence.
“Have it your way, then.” He huffs, shooting to his feet. His chair scrapes across the concrete in a sound that’s too similar to long nails on a chalkboard. Removing a piece of paper from the folder, he slides it across the table toward me, then hands me a pen that materializes from his pants pocket.
“Sign this. It declares that you’ve had your rights read to you and you understand them.”
Taking the pen, I scrawl my name across the bottom. He tucks the paper away smoothly in the folder, but just when I think he’ll disappear, he circles the table, bending down next to me, so that his mouth is at my ear. When he starts speaking, I realize that he’s positioned himself so that his back is to the glass and my face covers his lips from view of the camera. The words he murmurs are meant only for me.
“When you say, ‘I trust you,’ to me this time, and you will, there’s no disappearing in the dead of night. You will rely on me to protect you. I don’t know where things went wrong that night, but that won’t be happening a second time.”
I gasp, my heart stuttering, tripping over itself in its haste to keep up with my mind that’s whizzing a million miles a minute.
It can’t be…Hecan’t be…
Surely, I’m about to go into cardiac arrest, my hands damp as a bead of sweat slides down my spine, but I find my voice enough to rasp, “You.”
The words he whispers in reply skate over the shell of my ear like a thin, wispy cloud. “Yes, doll,me.”
FOURTEEN YEARS AGO
“An alliance with a powerful person is never safe.”
Phaedrus
@livingh3ll: Are you from Washington, D.C.? Would you ever move?
@dc_d0ll: Born and raised. If the circumstances were right, I’d move anywhere, but I like the District. What about you?
@livingh3ll: Afghanistan is the first place I’ve lived that wasn’t D.C. but I’ve always wanted to live in Europe for a few years. I thought about doing that after I get out of the Marines.
@dc_d0ll: Oh, take me with you. That sounds dreamy.
@livingh3ll: How’d you know that you’re already in all my dreams, doll?
@dc_d0ll: Lucky guess, or maybe you’re just in mine too.
@livingh3ll: I’d do anything for a steak. Medium rare.I could go for some real breakfast food, too. Something with extra syrup. Waffles over pancakes, though. One more bite of powdered, freeze-dried eggs might take me the fuck out. Tell me what you’ve been eating. Let me live vicariously through you.
