“Why not?” he asked, stepping around the desk. “You’re not exactly subtle, Valentina. Do you really think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?”
“I haven’t talked to them in months.”
“Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t, if things got bad enough.”
I wanted to roll my eyes—badly. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? You’ve already proven you’ll do whatever it takes to survive. I respect that, believe it or not. But it makes you dangerous. Unpredictable.”
“You think I’d sell you out? After helping you and yourwife?”
“I think you’ll do whatever you think is necessary. Which is why I need you on my side, Valentina. Not theirs.”
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” I snapped. “I’m just trying to get by.”
“And how’s that working out for you?” he asked, gesturing to my damp hair and the worn edge of my coat. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you’re doing so well.”
The words stung, mostly because they were true.
My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to hold his stare. “I don’t need you to keep me in check, Max.”
He laughed. “Of course you don’t. You’re perfectly capable of doing that on your own. That’s why the power’s out, yourmother’s treatments are on the line, and you’re standing in front of me asking for help.Again.”
“Is this the part where you remind me how much I’ve screwed up?” I asked bitterly. “Or are we skipping to the solution?”
Max leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. “I’ll cover your rent and the hospital bills for this month,” he said as if he were doing me a favor. “But the deal hasn’t changed. Thirty days, a chip, and then you get more.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked, my voice quieter now. I hated how small it sounded, how cornered I felt.
His lips twitched as if the question amused him. “Then you’re out of choices, Valentina. And you know I’m not in the habit of repeating myself. Keep this up. I’ll make sure someone is there to keep you in line.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “You’re going to play babysitter?”
“It means I’ll have someone make sure you’re going to the meetings, staying on track, and not doing anything reckless.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Like talking to the Americans? God forbid I have a conversation.”
“You said it, not me.” He crossed his arms. “Meetings are at seven on Sundays. If you need a driver, I can arrange one.”
The idea of one of Max’s men chauffeuring me to AA meetings made my chest burn. “I’ll take the subway,” I said, shifting my weight.
“Suit yourself.”
I glanced toward the door, the tension in my shoulders threatening to pull me apart. The meeting was six days away. Which meant I still had time. Time to screw up. Time to get it out of my system. One last hurrah, you could say.
“Speaking of which,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “I could use some cash for the ride back. Unless you want me to hitchhike in heels.”
Max reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty, holding it out between two fingers like he was daring me to take it.
I snatched it from him, the corner curling slightly under my grip. “Thanks,” I muttered, tucking the bill into my coat.
“Subway fare,” he said pointedly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not booze.”
“Obviously,” I shot back, rolling my eyes for effect. But even as I said it, the lie tasted bitter my tongue.
I already knew exactly where the rest of that twenty was going. A subway ride didn’t cost twenty bucks. Not even close.
There was a corner store near the station that sold cheap wine—the kind that burned going down but hit fast enough to make it worth it. Max didn’t need to know that. He probably already suspected it, but as long as I didn’t confirm it, we could both pretend I had an ounce of self-control.
