“No.”
“You haven’t even heard what it is.”
“I don’t need to.”
His smile drops. “Roxy, come on. It’s just data. You work in operations. I need the land survey records for the northern perimeter. And a map of all the unregistered cabins on the property.”
“And why,” I ask carefully, “would you need that?”
He glances toward the trees, eyes darting like he’s expecting someone to materialize. “There are men in town. Looking for information about Makari’s holdings. They want to know what’s out here.”
“Who are these men?”
“They’re associates from Chicago.” His voice goes hoarse. “A syndicate that doesn’t wait long for debts.”
The words land heavily, thudding into place like puzzle pieces snapping into a terrifying picture. Eric’s in trouble. Serious trouble. The kind of trouble you don’t talk your way out of.
And he’s trying to drag me into it.
“No,” I say again, sharper. “I’m not giving you anything.”
He pushes off the car door and steps closer. Too close. I step back automatically, heart kicking hard.
“Roxy,” he says, and there’s no friendliness in it now. “I’m asking nicely.”
“No, you’re threatening me.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“That’s not your job. It never was.”
He flinches, but only for a second. Then he moves in, crowding me back toward the corner of the lot. “You don’t understand,” he says, voice tight. “If I don’t give them something, they’ll come for me. And if they come for me, they’re going to look at everyone I ever talked to. Everyone near me.”
His gaze drops pointedly to the ground, then back up to my face.
“They’ll hurt me,” he says. “And they’ll hurt you.” A beat. “And they’ll hurt her.”
The world seems to narrow in an instant. It’s illogical; there’s no way they’d connect me and Andi to Eric, but…
“Andrea is none of your concern,” I say, but the words come out strangled.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he insists.
“You’re trying to save yourself,” I snap. “And you’re using threats to do it.”
He stalls. Something ugly twists across his face. “Roxy, please. I don’t want to hurt you. But they will. They don’t care who you are or who she is. They just want information, and I can give them something if you?—”
Headlights flood the lot.
Eric jerks back like he’s been caught. An engine rumbles—a deep, heavy sound—and moments later Dima’s SUV turns into the parking row.
Eric’s jaw tightens. “We’re not finished,” he murmurs. Then he slips into the trees, vanishing as if he’d never been there at all.
I stand rooted in place, shaking.
Dima slows as he approaches and lowers the window. The interior lights spill out, catching my face. His expression changes immediately.
“You okay?” he asks, voice deep and even but laced with concern.
