Allen stared at him, breathing hard. “What are you going to do? Take it and pretend it didn’t happen? Like the card?”
Rick’s jaw tightened. Allen had seen the card. “The card was a mistake,” Rick said. “I should’ve gotten rid of it.”
Allen’s eyes widened. “So it was the same hotel.”
Rick didn’t deny it. “Yes.”
Allen’s face crumpled and his shoulders shook. He backed away from the couch and moved toward the kitchen. He kept the phone in his hand the whole time, his other hand rubbing his chest. “I’ve got to…”
Rick followed, making sure to keep some distance between them. Allen stopped at the counter, leaning against it. He stared down at the surface and shook his head again.
“I let you in here,” Allen said, voice low and shaking. “I let you—” Allen’s throat worked. “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Rick watched Allen’s shoulders lift on a shaky breath. He heard the quiet sob but didn’t move closer. “I didn’t make you say that,” Rick said.
Allen’s head snapped up. “You did.”
Rick didn’t argue. “I asked you to be honest.”
Allen stared at him, eyes wide. “Honest? You want honest?” Allen’s hand shook as he lifted the phone up. “This isn’t honest. This is… this is a list so you could watch people and then murder them.”
Rick’s gaze flicked to it for the first time. He didn’t need to see the screen to know what was there. “It’s notes,” Rick said. “A plan.”
“You planned it,” Allen said, voice rising. “You wrote down—a flat tire. Watch. Wallet. Like it was—”
“Control,” Rick said, cutting in. “It’s called control. People like Elliot don’t get taken out by accident. That’s not how the world works.”
Allen’s face twisted. “Taken out?”
Rick’s voice stayed low. “Allen. Listen to me.”
Allen shook his head. “No. No, I don’t—I don’t want to listen. I want you to—” His voice broke. “I want you to tell me you’re joking. That what I’m seeing isn’t…” Allen hunched over. “Rick…”
“I’m not joking,” Rick said.
Allen’s breath shuddered out. He looked down, then up again, his face hardening. “Do you hear yourself?” Allen said. “You’re standing in my kitchen talking about killing people like it’s—”
“Like it’s a problem I’ve solved.”
Allen stared at him, head snapping back. “Solved?”
Rick stepped in closer, but not too close to scare Allen. “I’m not proud of it,” Rick said. “I’m telling you what it is because you found it.”
Allen’s eyes narrowed. “So, what now?”
Rick’s mouth tightened. This was the real question. This was where Allen would either run or stay. Rick paused before answering, and when he did, he chose his words carefully. “Now you breathe,” he said. “You calm down. You stop panicking.”
Allen gave a harsh laugh. “I’m not panicking. I’m—” He pressed his hand to his stomach again, swallowed. “I’m trying not to throw up.”
“Okay,” Rick said. “Sit down.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Allen snapped.
Rick held his gaze. “Then don’t fall over.”
Allen’s jaw clenched. He stayed standing, knuckles white on the counter. “Rick,” he warned.
Rick nodded. “Fine.”
