Page 18 of Master of Lies

She blinked up at me, freshly terrified. Her mouth worked.

I am so sick of playing a top-shelf bad guy. Scaring people into compliance was a quick and dirty technique, time effective and convenient. The shitty downside is that I have to be prepared to follow through on my threats. I never have the stomach for it.

She was buying it for now, though, which is good enough for me. I got the Jeep into gear, braced for a sobbing, screaming meltdown, but she just huddled there, teeth chattering.

So. It would seem Sandee had not genuinely wanted her sexual fantasy to take tangible form and leap out at her like a horror move jump-scare. Wow, what a surprise. But hey, she was still breathing. That was the one point I could chalk up in my own favor today. Sandee was not dead because of my mistakes. At least, not yet.

I had to keep it that way. My conscience was burdened enough as it was.

The storm was a fucking blizzard from hell. I could barely see what constituted the road between the trees. I realized at a certain point, as if from far away, that I was letting out a constant stream of vicious profanity. It was steam, hissing out of a safety valve. A vain attempt to keep me from blowing up.

Sandee cringed against the passenger side door. Her wild mop of hair flopped with each bone-rattlingthud.

I swallowed the profanity with some difficulty. The woman was shocked, terrified, traumatized. There was blood on her face, her coat. “Hey. You’re bleeding?”

She didn’t respond. I hoped she wasn’t going into shock. I reached over to give her a nudge. “Hey! Sandee! Are you hurt?”

She squeaked, and recoiled.

Great. This is just so fucking typical. I had fucked myself left, right, and sideways for this girl, but I wasn’t going to get any thanks for it, because she thought I was a monster. And who the fuck could blame her? This was perfect. On the lam, in a blizzard, soaked with blood, while the woman I was trying to save had a full-fledged nervous breakdown in the car next to me. Just stellar.

I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached, struggling to moderate my tone. “Don’t be afraid of me,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Not a peep. Like she hadn’t even heard me. But at least the shitty road conditions and the shivering, sobbing, terrified girl next to me gave me something to focus on other than Mickey on the bathroom floor, bleeding out.

I made my voice ugly. “Stop whining, or I’ll dump you out in the snow.”

She looked over at me. I caught a hot flash of anger in her eyes. Excellent. Much better to have her furious at me than going into shock.

“Go ahead. Throw me out,” she said. “Truly. Feel free. I’d prefer it.”

I let out a sigh. “You’d die. We’ve gone too far into the mountains. You’d never find your way back in a blizzard, even if you had the right clothes and shoes. And how about those guys from the van? Do you want their B team to catch up with you?”

“I’ll take my chances. I’ll walk back to town and go straight to the cops.”

I snorted and kept on driving. She was talking out her ass, and she probably knew it. Pointless argument. I ignored her, and she huddled into a silent, shaking ball.

The long, narrow road was nearly invisible on the satellite map, but I had driven it many times, memorizing the landmarks. But it all looked different tonight.

At the speed we had to go, it took over an hour to get to the cabin. I was so relieved when I pulled the Jeep into the car park. I’d stocked the place with everything Mickey and I might need to stage the next phase of this project. All of which, of course, had been predicated on having Mickey and his intel.

So close. So goddamn close. If I’d scheduled the riot for twenty minutes earlier, Mickey and I would’ve been out of there, home free. We’d been so damn close.

I killed the engine, considering different things that I could say to Sandee about what was happening to her right now, and discarding them all. I couldn’t tell her about my mission. I’d already put her in mortal danger, and she hadn’t demonstrated even a baseline minimum of good judgment. For fuck’s sake, the girl pursued violent criminals for sexual thrills. I couldn’t risk letting her know anything my business.

“Let’s get inside. Get warmed up,” I said.

She looked spooked. “Um. What is this place? Is this your, ah…hideout?”

I tried not to snort. “It’s a place with a heater and some food. It’s where we’re going to spend the night. Move, Sandee. Out of the damn car.”

My tone goaded her into action. I nudged her ahead of me through the snow. I could hear her teeth clacking together from the cold as I unlocked the door.

I switched on the lights once we were inside. It was freezing cold, of course, but there were a couple of space heaters and a fire laid in the woodstove. The cabin was equipped with a week’s worth of provisions for two, as well as first-aid supplies and antibiotics, in case Mickey or I got injured in the prison breakout. Which was good, because I was all sliced up. There were fresh clothes for me and Mickey. Electronics and portable security equipment, so I could secure our lodgings wherever we ended up going. In the hidden safe were the guns, phones, cash, and fake IDs and credit cards, for me and Mickey. The cabin was a prison escapee’s wet dream.

Sandee stood there, swaying a little on her feet. Her hands were clasped desperately tight in front of her blood-stained, puffy jacket.

I figured, the less said, the better, so I got to work making the place habitable. Got heaters fired up, ignited the fire I had laid months before. Filled the kettle on the stove, set it to boil. Pulled random packages of food from the freezer, stuck them in the microwave.

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