I thought my outburst would send him into a deranged fury, but he regarded me in cold, contemplative silence. “Something tells me,” he said finally, “that you will change your mind.”
“I’ll die first,” I seethed.
He eyed me in amusement. “You’re quite dramatic, aren’t you?”
Sometimes I could be, but right then, I had meant every word.
Mr. Sterling’s features twisted, and he hastily yanked a handkerchief from within his pocket and coughed loudly into it. The hand holding his pistol wavered, and I took a step toward the door, but then his coughing subsided, and he steadied the gun.
I froze, my gaze locked on the barrel of his weapon. My knees trembled, and I fought to keep myself upright. I had always thought of myself as brave, but after losing Elvira and seeing firsthand what this weapon could do, my terror gripped me by the throat.
I would never not be afraid of guns.
“Is that your final answer?” he asked.
Would he shoot me if I said yes? Time ticked by in tense seconds. I licked my dry lips and whispered, “I will not change my mind.”
Mr. Sterling stared at me for one long, measured beat. Question after question slammed into me. How long would it take me to reach the hallway? Would he aim for my heart?
Was this my last breath?
Mr. Sterling smiled faintly and then pointed to the room’s exit and said, “Let’s join the others. We have a lot of packing to do.”
I blinked at him in confusion, not understanding his words. And then realization dawned, and I let out a slow exhale. He wasn’t going to shoot me in this room. My brow furrowed.Then why bring me in here? Why pull me from the others?
“If you had agreed, I couldn’t have the others knowing,” Mr. Sterling said, reading my thoughts. He motioned for me to walk ahead of him, and I did, my shoulders tense, convinced that he was going to shoot me in the back. My movements were stiff, and I constantly looked over my shoulder to find the barrel of his gun pointed between my shoulder blades.
“I’m not going to pull the trigger,” he said from behind me, amusement lacing every syllable. “Think of the mess, and besides, you are an essential piece of my elaborate plan. You help me more than you could possibly fathom.”
A sharp chill pricked my spine. “What do you mean? How am I helping you?”
“Think it through,” he said, almost encouragingly.
Mr. Sterling had far-reaching hands and unlimited resources. He knew where we were staying, maybe even our room number. He could have learned about my aunt and cousin’s arrival. Perhapshehad a hand in Abdullah’s and Ricardo’s arrests.
The amount of catastrophe this man was capable of staggered me.
“Is there no one here you haven’t corrupted in some way?”
Mr. Sterling remained silent, but I sensed he enjoyed watching me squirm. I was nothing but a cog in the elaborate machine he was building to punish Mamá for what she had done to him.
Every awful thing always led back to my mother.
I wanted to be rid of her, to cut ties with her and forget how much she’d meant to me. Forget how many years I spent trying to be like her, trying to please her. It had all been a lie. She wanted me to be someone perfect, a girl with flawless manners who knew exactly how to behave and what to say.
The girl my mother never was.
It killed me to see Mr. Sterling’s men boxing up all of her possessions. Every single item was a potential clue, a way to find her. And he was taking that away from me. Whit and Isadora watched in helpless silence, forced to stand in the corner of the room, their hands up high over their heads. My sister’s arms were shaking from the effort.
It was enough to make me want to scream.
Whit met my gaze, his eyes drifting over me slowly, assuring himself I was all right. He raised an eyebrow, and I nodded imperceptibly. I put aside my frustration with him and concentrated on how we could all get out of this situation alive.
I didn’t want to lose either of them.
“The ring looks better on you than it ever did on me,” Mr. Sterling remarked casually.
I curled my hands into tight fists, my heart slamming against my ribs. This ring reminded me of Papá, and I didn’t want Mr. Sterling to touch it. I hated that he was studying it now.
