But half an hour later, it starts up again.
Fucking great.She’s probably found herself an all-nighter.
I rub my eyes, then wait for them to unblur as I go over the text message on my phone again.
Today’s the day.
Yesterday, Mark sent me a message to meet him later today. At a coffee shop – it should be safe enough, but knowing him, probably not. He’s included another dress code. Preppy this time. No demand to leave my underwear behind, thank God. Maybe he’s not planning to publicly humiliate me once again.
I head to the tiny dressing table, where I’ve left an unwrapped package. The recording device arrived yesterday. I’ve tested it, and it seems to work. I just hope it’ll do the trick when I’m facing the enemy. It has to. There’s no other option. I do not doubt Mark will have me searched when I get to him. Aside from the razor-sharp hairpins, there’s going to be no way I’ll get in with any kind of weapon. And this recorder.
The beveled black heart seems more appropriate than ever, and I run my fingertip over its shiny facets. It’s attached to a simple black chain, and when I’ve tried it on, it nestles perfectly between my breasts. Pressing a tiny button sets a small LED light flickering for a moment before activating it, and then it goes back to looking like an ordinary pendant. If I didn’t know better myself, I’d be completely fooled. I pray that Mark is too.
I sit down on the rickety chair at the table and reach for my phone, then run through another series of tests to ensure the recorder is paired with the app.
Focusing on the steps I must go through helps me suppress the fear that keeps surging. I have to remember why I’m doing this. Remember Kyle. And how I can keep Mateo safe. It’s the only thing suppressing the pain of knowing I’ll never see him again. No matter what happens. I’m going to make this work. If I don’t, the world will never know what this man has done.
I scroll through the final settings, selecting the destination for the recording of what I hope will be Mark’s damnation. The app pops up another confirmation of the email address I’ve typed in. If I don’t get out alive, the confession will be mailed to Mateo.
Chapter 8
Andy Carter
Iturn in a circle in the dark alley and try to get my bearings.
This can’t be right?
I frown and check the address I just gave to the cab driver. I’m definitely in the right place. But I can’t see any sign of the coffee shop Mark had mentioned.
Iron Brews.
There’s nothing like that here. Just the back doors of the stores that face onto the street front. I walk slowly along the narrow alley, peering into each doorway.
Maybe I should be coming in from the other side. I open up Google Maps and check the street names around us. This is definitely the right street. Perhaps there’s a hidden entrance that I’m missing.
Trust Mark to find the only subversive coffee shop in the whole damn city.
Fuck…I hope it’s not another goddamn sex club.
It takes me ten minutes to walk down the entire street, and then I take another ten to come back, double-checking my route.
Still nothing. Unless he’s meeting me in a dumpster, there’s no coffee shop here.
Although a dumpster would be appropriate for the piece of trash that he is.
I reach the end of the alley and hover uncertainly. I recheck my watch. Thirty minutes have passed since I arrived here. If he’s running late, he’d have called by now, surely? Though maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d leave me here to stew for a while. I can’t say it wouldn’t be like him – I don’t put anything past that man anymore.
I flick my hair over my shoulder and debate whether to stay longer. If this is some sick game, I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of making me squirm.
Fuck it! I’m leaving.
I’m about to turn to move off when the roar of an engine stops me in my tracks. I’m staring into the bright headlight of a motorcycle.
Mateo?
I suddenly have a vision of the shiny black beast he’d whisked me off on the night he took me from the club. Has he found me here? How the hell?
The bike stops beside me, and I realize it couldn’t be him. This guy’s smaller, much lighter in build. He flips open the helmet's visor, and I look into dull brown eyes. He holds out a helmet to me.
