The heavy door opens in on the room and my heart rate doubles. I hold my breath.
‘We’ve been waiting for you to come round.’
Katrina Martin.
Oddly, her familiar face settles my pulse a notch she comes to the chair in front of the mirror. She’s been watching me from behind the wall.
‘Like it?’ she asks, sitting in a cheap black suit, legs parted in her flat, scuffed shoes.
There’s no badge on her belt and I remember that she’s been suspended. Yet a handgun is holstered on her hip.
‘Don’t fret. It’s mostly to let you know how things are going to go,’ she says. ‘As long as I get what I need, the gun stays right where it is.’
She looks tired. Worn. Haggard. Much older than her years. Older than she looked just weeks ago in Dubai.
‘Not talking? You usually have so much to say.’
My mind is still processing everything, completely drawing a blank after those words left Stuart’s lips.I’m sorry.
Stuart and Trina?
She stands now, one hand on her hip, the other turning around the room. ‘This one is a little run-down. The building’s been derelict for a long time. But I thought it would be nice to give you a little taster. Once you give me what I want, you’ll be in a much nicer version to make your statement against your boyfriend.’
My throat feels like it’s being grated with glass as I speak. ‘That’s what you want? That’s why I’m here?’
She glares at me. Unresponsive.
‘You want me to tell you something that isn’t true.’
She throws her head back with a deep, menacing laugh that comes from her gut. Then she stops it abruptly, slamming a palm down on the table.
‘Except you and I both know that itistrue, Scarlett. Don’t we?’ She brings her forearms to rest on the table between us. Her voice low and sinister as she tells me, ‘You know what makes me sick? People like you. People like your boyfriend. Gliding through life, exterminating anything and anyonewho dares to stand in your way. Andmen. Men thinking women are nothing. Using us, hurting us. Not letting us get to where wefuckingdeserve in life.’ She leans back with a loud, harsh snort. ‘They say they want to put away the bad guys. Think because they have a dick between their legs, they’re better than us at doing it. But you know what the truth is? They only want to fight the bad guys if the bad guys don’t pay. Bad guys can’t be rich. They’re the scum of the earth if they don’t have money. The dregs of society. If they have money, theypayto be good.’
My shoulders ache when I hold my head up but I do because I can’t tear my eyes away from her venom. Her hatred. I can’t help but wonder what or who made her this way.
‘Do you see, Scarlett? Do you see why I have to do this? For us. For women. For the greater good of society. And you can help me. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to set right a wrong?’
I lost my hold on what’s right and wrong a while ago. All I know now is that there are so many wrongs, the only thing to do is what feels right. She’ll never know how much I’d like to go back. To do things differently. But I’m not sorry that bastard is dead. It was right to take him out of this world, to take him away from Gregory and bring him the justice he deserved for everything he ever did. To Gregory. To Lara. To Elsa. Tomydad. Everything else that’s happened has to be right because it sent that man to hell.
‘Let me ask you something, Trina. Where do you stand on doing something that may be wrong in the eyes of the law to put right an evil? To correct something that’s morally repugnant?’
Her eyes darken and burn into mine. It resonates.
‘You think that your plan for the greater good involves putting a man behind bars for serving justice?’
‘Justice is what the law is for,’ she snarls. ‘Justice is why police walk the streets. Justice isn’t served by corrupt men.’
‘You think kidnapping to uncover a non-existent bribe is serving justice?’
She leans forward and slams the side of her fist against the metal table, the sound echoing in the room. She stands, clashing her metal chair against the mirrored wall. My blood pumps harder as she moves around the table towards me.
She takes her gun from her holster.
Air leaves my lungs.
I stare at the barrel before she raises her hand and crashes the gun across my cheek and temple, sending me and the chair slamming against the concrete floor. My shoulder burns. My head rings.
‘You said we weren’t going to hurt her.’
