“Wait,” I say as he turns to continue down the hall. “Look, can you at least tell me what happened to Daniella Monroe? She has nothing to do with this. She’s not being extradited as well, is she?”
“Don’t know anything about her,” the guard says. “Sorry.”
Sorry? If I could spread my legs more than the seventeen inches of chain running from ankle to ankle, I’d kick the metal bench I was sitting on. Though in these soft, canvas shoes, I’d also break more than one toe.
Sinking down, I let my head fall back against the concrete wall. Years of training on micro-expressions and body language tell me that the guard was honest with me, at least. He doesn’t know anything about Dani.
A strange ache forms deep in my chest and spreads until it’s all I can feel. For years, every time I got on a plane, someone died at my hand. Enough kills under your belt and you stop caring about the preciousness of your own life. Too many enemies.
But for the past few days, I had a reason to want to live again. Someone who wanted me, who didn’t care about all the darkness I carry inside. Or so I thought. Was I wrong? I’d give anything to talk to her. To ask why. But I’ll never get that chance. Once they force me onto that plane? I might as well stop fighting. I’m as good as dead.
* * *
Dani
The interrogation room is all one color. Dark gray. From the steel table to the walls to the uncomfortable chairs. Even the cement floor is gray, covered in that slick kind of paint nothing sticks to. Not blood or tears or...things I don’t want to think about.
I’m no longer handcuffed, and I was able to call Lincoln—or leave him a message, anyway—but a female officer brought me in here what feels like ages ago, and no one’s checked on me since.
The two-way mirror I face inspires visions of screaming and throwing this hard metal chair, just to get someone to talk to me. For all I know, half the officers in the precinct are watching me. When they first locked me in here, I paced, flexing my fingers again and again as I tried to imagine I had my thinking putty with me. But now, I’m too tired. The cuffs have my shoulders tense and strained, and a headache is splitting my skull.
How could Lincoln do this to me? To us? Before they let me call him, I saw a copy of the article. He took my unfinished piece, and despite the message I sent explicitly stating we couldnotpublish it yet, added an editor’s note and did it anyway.
If I weren’t locked in this room, I’d kill him. Or make him wish he were dead.
Every time I blink, I see the betrayal on Trevor’s face. He thinks I broke my promise and no one let me tell him I didn’t.
I rest my arms on the table, hoping for a way to cradle my head, but it’s so awkward and painful, I don’t think I can stay in this position long. Lincoln better come through. Trevor’s in trouble. If he gets returned to Venezuela, they’ll kill him.
The loudthunkof the lock startles me awake. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember the dream I was having. I was back at The Crypt interviewing Luis, but this time, when the alarms went off, it wasn’t Luis the guards dragged away.
It was Trevor.
I sit up straighter and try to calm my racing heart. Until I see Lincoln. “You fucking asshole!” I scream as I push to my feet.
Two officers—one male and one female—sidestep him and block my path, and I try to see over them as the woman warns me to sit back down.
“Dani, hear me out, okay?” Lincoln says with his hands raised.
“Not unless you have a lawyer with you who’s going to get me out of here right now.” I stalk back to the chair and sit, dropping my cuffed hands onto the table and pointedly staring off into the corner of the room rather than at him.
“That’s why I’m here. To get you. The Post’s lawyers have been on this for two hours, and the judge has already agreed to drop the warrant for your arrest. You need to stay in the city for another day so they can process all the paperwork, but you’re not being charged with anything.”
“And Trevor?” A tiny spark of hope doesn’t have time to catch before Lincoln shakes his head.
“He’s already on a plane to Caracas.”
“No!” The word escapes on a wail, and I drop my head into my hands. “They’ll kill him!”
“Dani, come on. Let’s get out of here.” As Lincoln touches my arm, I jerk away. “I didn’t mean—“
“I don’t care what youmeant, Lincoln. I’m done trusting you. The only thing I want from you right now is a ride to Trevor’s office. And I wouldn’t even takethatif I had any other way to get there.”
He nods, and the regret twisting his features is obvious, but I can’t think about that now. I need help, and only a couple of people in this world are in a position to give it to me.
Chapter Seventeen
Dani
