I studied the pencil skirt and blouse she was holding out to me. “You don’t have something a little more casual.”
“Oh,” she glanced down at the clothes in her hand before dropping them onto the bed. “Pajamas?”
I shrugged and she scooped a duffle bag from beneath the bed, tossing it onto the comforter before picking out a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
“Thanks,” I muttered, retrieving the clothes. She motioned for me to change in the adjoining bathroom.
I locked the door, not that it would really protect me, and quickly changed into the clothes that smelled like laundry detergent. At least they were clean. When I opened the door, Clarissa was leaning against the wall opposite me.
“So, should we sit? Or are you going to leave now that you’ve got what you needed?”
I hoped my mask of indifference was impenetrable to her stare down. “I’m listening.” I crossed my arms, mirroring her stance by leaning against the door frame of the bathroom.
“Well,” she cleared her throat, and her face took on a professional seriousness. “It’s good to finally meet you. You’ve been on our radar since that first test you completed for Carlos. Well, that’s not true. We knew about your brother and knew of your existence but didn’t know you were involved until…you were involved.”
She let that information sit before continuing. “I’m approaching you now, before you’re unreachable, because I have a deal to offer you.”
“A deal?”
“Yes,” she nodded, gesturing for me to follow her.
She took a seat at a folding table and chairs in the kitchen.
“So?” I asked, crossing my arms and ignoring her gesture for me to sit down.
“So,” she said with a head nod, “the FBI is willing to offer you a deal. Your testimony in exchange for immunity and relocation with the Witness Protection Program.”
“Is that what you offered my brother?”
She tilted her head with a look of confusion. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I scoffed shaking my head. “You can fuck off with the theatrics. I already know that Adrian and my brother were working with you.”
She sighed, leaning back in her chair as she studied me.
“I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression, Shiloh, but your brother wasn’t an informant. At least not for the FBI.”
I blinked.
“What? No. Adrian said that’s what he was doing. Why he got killed. He died trying to sell you guys secrets. That’s why I joined the gang. That’s why I’m about to be married to a stranger. He turned for me and I’m living with the consequences.”
She cleared her throat and frowned.
“I don’t know what Adrian told you, but we had nothing to do with your brother or his death.”
“You’re lying,” I muttered, my head spinning.
“I’m not,” she implored. “Shiloh, your brother’s death was a conveniently timed coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” I scoffed. My stomach hollowed and a horrible thought struck me. “Oh God. Adrian.”
I reached out for the table to steady myself.
“God, no. No,” I shook my head.Fuck. Isn’t that what he said when I first met him? He plants information. He’s a Ghost online, untraceable.“Adrian framed my brother to get his position.”
The words tasted bitter on my tongue, and I resisted the urge to scream.
I looked up to find Clarissa looking distraught. “Was it you? Did you tell him to get my brother killed? You need Adrian as the sucesor don’t you?”
