He continues, “You act like you can take on anything. You are a pretty big girl after all. But Bobbi, I don’t want anything to happen to you. You see, I’ve been waiting for this moment. Just two of us. Alone. Private.” He smiles like I’m some kind of treasure.
What the hell? I’ve seen that look on a lot of the creeps my former clients hired me to keep away. “You’re a stalker?” I can usually recognize them when I see them. They’ve got that unsettling vibe you can’t ignore. It’s different from the feeling you get when you are around other types of lowlifes. I can’t believe my stalker radar failed with him.
“What?” He laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself. You aren’t my type.” His eyes roam over my body. There’s no particular heat or interest.
“Then why are you doing this?”
He leans forward. “Information.”
“Care to be a little more specific?”
“The dossiers.”
Time stops for a moment. Air sticks in my throat.
“Where are they?” he asks gently.
“What dossiers?” My response is calm with just enough faux irritation despite my racing heart. He might be one of the assets on the documents and wants to make sure his secrets are safe. But my gut says I need to play dumb. Besides, Noah said he was tasked to retrieve the dossiers. The government wouldn’t assign another agent the same mission…would it?
“Otto’s dossiers. Drop the innocent act. I know you have them.”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That so? Well, let me jog your memory.”
He takes a step and punts me halfway off the ground. Pain detonates in my gut. Air whooshes out, and I roll away as best I can, feeling like my intestines are turning black and blue underneath my skin. I haven’t been kicked this hard in a while.
“I hate hurting women.” Trey’s voice is full of regret. “It’s not very gentlemanly.”
You motherfucker. “Then don’t,” I wheeze.
“But you’re being a bitch, Bobbi. And bitches get beat.”
Shit.I roll some more, bringing my knees up, then twist my arms a little until I can reach my boot. The small paring knife I hid is still there. Guess Trey didn’t search me for weapons. Or maybe he doesn’t think it will matter because he has a gun.
I grab the blade and shift my body so I can hide cutting the tape around my wrists. It is difficult to maneuver because I’m trying to make sure he doesn’t realize what I’m up to. Once I cut my wrists free, I’ll need to do the same for my ankles before I can make a move. Let’s see if he’s still as smug after he gets his ass kicked by a woman.
“You ripped the floor out, and I bet you found something. Your idiot boyfriend didn’t look too happy when he left yesterday and he didn’t come back today. You were probably trying to protect him from the fallout. How much did you read? Find anything interesting?”
I glare at him, sawing away at the tape. He’s twisted the duct tape multiple times, until it’s like a rope and difficult to cut through. The skin around my wrists stings from the nicks I leave every time the blade slips in my sweat-slickened hand.
“Otto wassogood at digging up secrets. Preternatural, almost. I greatly admired his talent. A shame he died the way he did.”
“Obviously, since he worked for the State Department. How do you know my father?” I ask, pretending that I know nothing about what my dad really did.
“I worked with him. Helped him broker some lucrative deals.” Trey is smiling, but his eyes are soulless.
He was Dad’s partner in treason. Did Noah know Dad didn’t work alone? Did his agency look for Trey and somehow miss him? “So you never served in Afghanistan?”
“What, and waste my life away in that hellhole? Not bloody likely.”
Damn it. I’ve been too gullible, believing the lies about his military service.
Regardless, there’s no point in playing dumb now. If he worked closely with my dad to sell our country’s secrets, he knows about the dossiers. “I’m not a traitor like my father,” I say. The tightness around my wrists loosens. I just need to cut my ankles free without him firing at me.
Trey laughs. “Wait, you’re doing this out of some misguided sense of patriotism?” His eyes sparkle with evil amusement. “No, it’s simply too rich.” He laughs harder, throwing his head back. “My dear, you aren’t even American.”
“Of course I am.” He’s insane if he thinks I’ll believe such a ridiculous lie.
