“You’re not thinking of ratting?”
“Of course not.” I take a breath. “But if I’m right, then she might’ve found out exactly who killed Nicki. And if it was Nikolai…” I have to pause, the gravity of that accusation hitting me. “If Nikolai killed his own son, the evidence of that might be the only thing that saves my neck. He knows that if any of his soldiers find out that he murdered his own son, they’ll turn on him. This gets out, his place at the head of the table will be threatened. His knowing that I know that might be the only thing that stays his hand from coming after me… or Tati, for that matter.”
“You need leverage. I hear you. So, let’s plan to go to the bank?—”
We’re interrupted by a knock at the door, and both of us freeze, exchanging glances. “You expecting somebody?” Teddy asks.
I shake my head and set down my beer. “Hang back,” I tell him as I pull my gun from its place in my belt. I walk to the door and look out the peephole
Standing in my hallway, the lens distorting her appearance and making her head look oversized, is Tati. She’s looking around the hallway wildly, and I see that one of her cheeks is bruised.
I open the door and the moment she sees me, her eyes start to tear up. The neat bun her hair was in is hanging messily to one side and her dress is torn around her hips. She stands before me, her chest quivering on the edge of a sob. And then I see a small leatherbound book in her hands.
“I got it,” she says, her voice cracking. “I got the journal.”
I put my hand on her shoulder and pull her inside.
