“Good to know I’m special.”
“I didn’t say that,” she says too fast, too defensively.
“Whatever you say, Max.” I know I’m being patronizing, but I like to get a rise out of her too.
She finally pushes her plate away, letting me know she’s done eating. I peel two fifties off my stack under the table, then toss them next to her plate. “Ready?”
“You’re not even going to wait for the bill?” She’s already rising from the table, knowing the answer.
“It’s covered,” I tell her anyway, then walk right behind her toward the door.
She smiles widely at the hostess that tells us to have a great night and replies, “Thanks, I’ll try.” It seems so at odds with the real her that I was just having a conversation with—the one who says whatever’s on her mind and has a tongue so damn sharp, she often surprises me.
“I’m shocked you didn’t find a way to tell someone I abducted you.”
“I thought about it.” She shrugs and climbs into the passenger seat after I open the door for her. “But with my luck, someone would have called the cops and we’d both be up shit creek. I can’t exactly tell them you kept me compliant because you were going to frame me for murder. They might put my DNA in the system.”
“Luckily for me, you’re a sloppy killer.”
“I am not sloppy!” She’s incredulous, not because I called her a killer, but because I called her messy. “I’m cautious.”
“Sure,” I agree too easily, and she glares at me from the passenger seat for placating her.
“We’re alone now.”
Don’t remind me. I wonder how fired up she’s going to be when I tell her she can’t leave. I wonder if there’s some way that she’ll understand I’m doing it for her own good.
“Let’s talk business,” she declares as if I didn’t know what she meant about being alone.
“How many men are left on your list?”
“More than two, less than ten,” she tells me quickly.
“Do you have an idea who hired the man from the parking lot?”
“Maybe, but I’m not going to tell you. You haven’t given me any reason to yet.”
“I let you go to the bank with me,” I counter.
“Only because you didn’t have any other choice.”
“I always have choices, Max. I guarantee I could have gotten the code and anything else I needed from you, but I want you to work with me, to trust me, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
She’s quiet for a long time, as if she’s processing my words. “I don’t really understand you,” she finally admits. “You get me stabbed—”
“I did not get you stabbed,” I interject.
“Then you kidnap me and get me medical attention, making sure I’ll recover before locking me in a room for days.”
“Only because you were a danger to yourself and me.”
“I am not a danger to myself,” she scoffs, but I doubt she even believes her own words.
“Sure,” I deadpan.
“I’m not. I’ve been just fine for years.”
“You have?” I shove the car into park after pulling into the underground garage. “Then tell me how you ended up dropping a body in a place that would certainly get our attention before you nearly get robbed the same night for shit that would have sent you to prison for the rest of your life, only to wind up right back at my club like you wanted to be found out.” When I’m done ranting, I realize I’m leaning into her space, feeling agitated because I know she would have been dead on the spot if anyone else would have found her after dropping the lawyer in our backyard.
