Page 61 of Zirkov

“But what if—”

Zirkov held up a hand. “The DAA is not your ally. You will not confess to anything, directly or indirectly. Understood?”

She nodded.

He’d never seen her look so overwhelmed. With the crunch of dishes beneath her boots, she headed to the kitchen counter and one of the few unbroken items in the apartment. A glass vase with six dead yellow roses and one fresh one with the usual note, ‘Have a sweet day, Milady’.

“Who has been giving you these flowers?”

“Bruce. My neighbor across the hall. He’s sweet on me. He’s the one you paid to deliver a note to me.”

Zirkov remembered the male. Scrawny, untrustworthy, and greedy. That was the impression the male had given when he bartered higher and higher to deliver that note to her. Zirkov had been so desperate to reach her, he would have paid any amount of money, and the greedy sartog had sensed that.

Maggie caressed the petals of the fresh flower with her fingers. “I love roses, especially yellow. They brighten the place.” She scanned what remained of her apartment. “They used to, that is.”

Zirkov wanted to find out more about her neighbor, but it was more important to get what they came for and leave. They could talk about the unworthy male later.

He righted the sofa. “When you return here, you can paint the walls yellow. Or draw large yellow roses on them.”

A slight smile lifted her eyes. “Are you a romantic, Z?”

“You said you like yellow.”

“Blue’s nice too.” She winked and the corners of her mouth lifted in a smile that traveled down to his cocks.

“If you’re not getting any useful memories here, we should leave.”

“I want to collect a few personal items first.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll help you. Then, we’ll take a few buses and check for tails, before returning to our safehouse.” He spoke louder than usual, especially considering they’d trespassed onto a closed crime scene.

“Safehouse? Don’t you mean—”

He tapped his right ear and then motioned toward the apartment. Listening devices. The DAA would have planted those in case she returned. He could see the initial shock in her eyes. She still considered herself a DAA agent, and the thought that they would spy on her hadn’t sunk in yet.

She met Zirkov’s eyes, that lost look returning. She wasn’t sure how to be on the other side of the law. That’s why he’d insisted on coming with her. To do more than protect her; to let her know she wasn’t alone in her fight.

“Yes, um, give me a minute to pick through what’s left. I want whatever clothing they didn’t destroy. And my family pictures. Then we can go.”

Except she didn’t sift through the clothing on the floor. She stepped on and over several pictures, ignoring them as if they were trash, only to crawl under the bed.

His eyes fixated on that tight ass wiggling around, reminding him how much fun they’d had in that bed a week ago.

“Do you need help?” He struggled to keep the growing hunger for her out of his voice.

“Almost have it,” she said as she squirmed out of the tight space. “I have a hiding spot beneath the floorboards where I keep my valuables.”

“Jewelry?”

“I’m partial to silver.” She held up a Glock he hadn’t seen before, different from her DAA issue. “You don’t know how hard it is to replace pre-occupation pieces.”

With the click of a magazine being loaded into a gun, Maggie headed to the door. “Let’s go, Z. We’re burning daylight.”

CHAPTERNINETEEN

MAGGIE

After changing buses three times, Maggie and Zirkov sat on a park bench watching the pigeons eat popcorn a child had dropped earlier. In the distance, seven boys played with a soccer ball. With the sun setting, the kids would leave soon, though Maggie wondered if she and Zirkov would. He appeared content sitting with her… and not talking. And she swore he’d been inching closer to her. When they first sat down, there’d been a foot between them. Now, only a few inches.

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