“A phone number.”
She finally meets my gaze. “What for?”
Taking her now-dried hand, I gently set the napkin into her palm and close her fingers around it. “I know the situation you’re in. Call the number if you want to get out of it. Please, Anya. Please call it.”
Her eyes fly wide, and she glances down at my hands cupping hers. She pulls away but doesn’t drop the napkin. I frown at her as she wildly looks around and whispers, “I can’t.”
“Why?”
Her eyes narrow angrily as if I’m the one who took her against her will from her country. “There are people who need me to be here.”
“What are you talking about?”
She squeezes her fist and crumples the napkin into a ball. “I have family. They’re taking care of them, but only if I stay here and do what I promised.”
I take a step in her direction, but she backs up to keep her distance. “If you call that number, they can help your family.”
She nearly growls. “You don’t get it!” she spits. “They’ll help them with money while I’m here, but if I stop, if I disappear, they’ll . . .” She looks down at her feet, both in seemingly shame and anger.
“They’ll kill them,” I say with understanding in my tone. “Andre, right?”
Lifting her gaze back to mine, she grits out, “He’s the man who told me so, yes. But it isn’t him who is in charge.”
“I know,” I grumble. I bite the inside of my lip, wondering how far I can push someone who is so stressed. “Do you know who it is?”
She shakes her head and snorts in an unladylike fashion. “No, but I heard them talking on the phone once.”
Excitement bubbles in my chest. “Did you get a name?”
“No,” she declares firmly, regretfully almost. “They just talked about things I didn’t understand.”
“That’s okay, Anya. I’m . . . I want to get you out of this.”
“Why? You’re not a hero. You’re just like me. Stuck in it too.”
“Not in the same way you are.”
She chuffs and makes a sound that’s close to a laugh. “So you think.”
I pinch my eyebrows together. I can get out of this any time I want. Right? “You do know that, if you stay, you’re going to die, right?”
With all the fake humor gone, she looks to her left and studies her reflection in the mirror. That’s the only answer I get, and it’s enough.
I step toward her again, holding out my hand pleadingly. Thankfully, she doesn’t move away this time. “Let me help you.”
Sighing, she makes to move past me, stuffing the napkin into her pocket as she does. “No one can help me. Don’t bother trying.”
And with that, she exits the bathroom, and I’m left dumbfounded in the spot that I’m in. Is she really so terrified of what will happen to her family that she won’t trust my word that I can protect them? Protect her?
What did they tell her? What were the exact words they used to describe what would happen to her family if she should fail?
I run a hand through my hair and rip through the knots frustratedly. They must have told her everything she feared most. And damn it, it worked. I can only hope that she changes her mind and calls Miles before it’s too late.
Chapter Thirty-One
Feenix Blaylock
Iclimb the stairs to Charlie’s apartment with my lip half snarled. It’s noisy, and a horrible stench is seeping out of the walls. Trash litters the hallway, and I have to step around the garbage to travel down it. I haven’t lived in a place like this since my youth, and I had vowed that I’d never return to such conditions. But here I am, at her apartment door, sliding the faded key inside the lock.
