Page 79 of Twisted Enemy
It’s true
Wolf lied to me too
He left me at the feckin’ freeport
I’m in a goddamn hot-sheet motel
I have to make Tarasov trust me. I take a quick photo of the manky room and send it to him.
Oh how the mighty have fallen
You have to believe me
I never wanted this
I’m a Canton Crew princess but he treated me like a feckin’ whore
I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my life
Words are easy
How do I know he is not sitting beside you right now?
How do I know this is not Wolf typing?
I stare at the screen. I don’t want to let Tarasov into any corner of my life. I don’t want to face him while I’m alone. Vulnerable.
But vulnerability is exactly what a predator like Tarasov craves.
I grab my white shirt from the back of its sticky wooden chair. I only take time to do up three buttons before I tug on my linen pants. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to launch a video call.
Tarasov answers immediately. His face fills the screen, carved into sinister planes by the glow of his mobile. “Show me,” he commands.
I flip my phone’s view so he can see exactly what I’m seeing—four walls, a table and two nasty chairs, a mussed bed and a dresser.
“The closet,” he says.
I show him the mangled hangers. An extra pillow sags on the single shelf. A broken luggage rack splays across the floor.
“The bathroom,” he says.
I walk him into the tiny room. My face looks like curdled milk in the fly-spotted mirror, and my hair appears black. For just a moment, as I pull back the shower curtain, I wonder if some serial-killer axe murderer is lying in wait. Adrenaline spikes my belly, but the only thing waiting in the shallow beige tub is the petrified corpse of a cockroach.
“Okay?” I ask, as I switch back the phone view. “I’m alone.”
“That is one thing I will say for Wolf. He would not be caught dead in a dump like that. But tell me, Katie Lynch. He does not mind his wife being in such a place?”
I fight the urge to tell him I’m not Katie, that I haven’t been Katie since he took me to the Cold Room. Instead, I say, “I told you. He left me at Diamond Freeport.”
“And why would he do that?”
I need to tell him the truth, let him into my life. That’s what Cole’s taught me, explaining all the cons he was raised on. A mark needs to trust a grifter.
“He found out I saw Megan. His sister. After he ordered me never to talk to her again.”
Tarasov laugh is high and thin, as if I’ve just told the best joke in the history of the world. “Ah… The slit that keeps on giving. That bitch is not worth fighting over.”
“Tell that to Cole,” I say, seasoning my words with true bitterness.
