He listens for a moment, his jaw clenching. “I don’t care if it’s a burner. Trace it anyway. There’s always a digital footprint.”
When he hangs up, the silence is deafening. He stands there staring at my phone like it might explode, his shoulders rigid with tension.
“Dimitri?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended.
He turns to look at me, and the raw fury in his eyes makes me take a step back. Not because I’m afraid of him (I’m not), but because I’ve never seen him look so...angry.
“This isn’t random,” he says flatly, clenching my phone in his hand. “This isn’t a wrong number or some creep who got your information. This is?—”
“The person who wants us dead.” I finish his sentence because I already know. I’ve known it since I read those words.
I’m still watching. You were always mine.
“What does that mean?” I ask, feeling beads of sweat erupt on my forehead. “‘You were always mine’—what does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” He runs a hand through his hair, disrupting those dark waves. If it were a different time, I would tell him how much I like that he’s grown his hair out. “But I’m going to find out.”
His phone rings and he answers it before the first ring finishes. “Tell me you have something,” he barks into the receiver.
Whatever the person on the other end says makes his expression darken further. He listens for a long moment, then, “I see. And the phone itself?”
More listening. He scowls.
“Fine. Keep looking. Check every tower in the area. I want to know where that signal originated.” He hangs up and looks at me, his eyes stormy. “Fucking burner phone and it’s already shut off. They knew we’d trace it.”
Of course they did. Whoever this is, they’re smart. Careful. They’ve been one step ahead this entire time.
“So what do we do?” I ask, my mouth suddenly dry.
Dimitri is quiet for a long moment, staring at my phone like it holds answers he can’t quite see. Then he sets it down on his desk and looks at me.
“We’ve been in lockdown for two weeks,” he says. “That’s long enough.”
My stomach drops. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying whoever is targeting us knows we’re here. They know where we are, what we’re doing. That text proves it.” He starts to pace as it’s clear he’s speaking a plan that’s formulating in real time. “We’re never going to find them if we sit behind these walls. We need to draw them out.”
“Draw them out,” I repeat slowly. “You mean... set a trap.”
Dimitri nods. “Yes.”
“Are youinsane?” The words burst out of me before I can stop them. “Someone just sent me a message saying they’re watching me. And you want to what—go outside? Make ourselves targets?”
“We’re already targets, Vera. Hiding isn’t keeping us safe. It’s just delaying the inevitable.”
He moves closer, taking my hands in his. The touch grounds me, even as my heart races with fear.
“We’ll go somewhere public,” he continues as I gape at him. “Heavily guarded, but public. Somewhere they’d feel confident making a move.” He looks thoughtful as something clearly crosses his mind. “The mall, maybe? Yes, that’ll do it. There’s lots of civilians and exits. It’s the kind of place someone would feel safe trying something.”
This is madness. “This is crazy,” I whisper, unable to believe what I’m hearing. Dimitri has spent so long keeping me under lock and key for my ‘safety’ but now he wants to take us out into the world like we’re sitting ducks?
“Probably.” He squeezes my hands. “But I’m tired of waiting for them to come to us. I’m tired of living in fear. Aren’t you?”
I am. God, I am so tired of it. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder and wondering when the next attack will come.
But going to the mall? Deliberately putting ourselves in danger?
“What if something goes wrong?” I ask, hating how weak I sound.
