“Amber’s going to make my life hell now.”
“No, she’s not.” I set the envelope on the table. “Because you’re not coming back here.”
Truth’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
I pulled out a chair and sat down. Gestured for her to do the same.
She didn’t move.
“Sit,” I said.
“I’m fine standing.”
I looked at her. Waited.
Finally, she sighed and sat down across from me.
I slid the envelope across the table.
“This is the contract,” I said. “I’ve flagged the sections that changed from the original draft. Read through them. If you have questions, ask.”
Truth opened the envelope slowly, like she was afraid of what was inside.
She pulled out the contract and started reading.
I watched her.
The way her eyes moved across the page. The way her brow furrowed when she hit a section she didn’t understand. The way her lips parted slightly when she realized what she was reading.
After a few minutes, she looked up.
“This protects me more than it protects you.”
“That’s the point.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s important to me that you can trust me,” I said. “Or this doesn’t work.”
Truth stared at me for a long moment.
Then she picked up the pen I’d set on the table and signed her name at the bottom of the last page.
I felt something shift in my chest.
Relief. Satisfaction. Something else I didn’t have a name for.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone. Sent a quick text to Priest. I texted him on the way to have him meet me with the cash.
Bring it in. The thirsty bitch at the desk can tell you how to find us.
A knock on the door.
I stood and opened it.
Priest was standing there, holding the leather duffel.
He handed it to me without a word, then disappeared back down the hallway.
