Page 43 of In the Dark

He chuckled and rubbed his jaw. “Like I’m the monster here.”

“Paolo would still be alive if—”

“And you’d be with an Irishman.”

“What?”

“Or Tomás.” His insinuation that my uncle would have pawned me off hit much too close to home. He knew how selfish Paolo was. Everyone did.

He rubbed his chin again. “Or maybe one of the Russians. Your uncle was desperate toward the end—”

“You know nothing.”

“I know everything, babe. You forget my brother took Paolo’s life? He told me every one of his attempts to weasel his way out of death.” His words twisted in my gut.

“Then you know it’s a lie,” I whispered.

“Or you know it’s the truth,” he threw back, holding my gaze. Something in his tone softened, though, like he knew he’d pushed me enough for the day. “What else do you need here?”

“Just for you to go.” I sighed and sat on the bed, exhausted. “I just want peace.”

“This partnership will be a lot more cordial, and you’ll feel at peace with it, if you’re honest with me, Jasmina.”

“Oh, God. Are you going to talk to me about that ridiculous trust again?” I closed my eyes and laid back. “You’ll see once we’re married: There’s no trust to be had, Callahan. I’ve got no secrets.” Except one little SD card. I threw an arm over my eyes. “Can I sleep now? Or can you give me my phone back so I can call my family to have them help with this stupid wedding?”

He was silent for so long, I lifted my arm and cracked an eye to look at him. “I believe you if you say you don’t know of one.” He said it almost like he was handing me an olive branch, and then, “I’ll get you a new phone, but you won’t be using yours. And you won’t be calling anyone without authorization.”

I thought maybe we’d turned over a new leaf until he said that. Instantly, I glared at him.

He shook his head. “Don’t start.”

“What? Like I’m still the enemy?” I crossed my arms as I laid there. “I’m going to be your freaking wife. So, how about you give me a little trust.”

He didn’t like a taste of his own medicine it seemed, because he just grumbled, “Viper, get the damn planning done.” His ominous tone was all he left me with. No tour. No welcome. No niceties.

Get it done.

I would. All for the family’s sake, not his.

But first, I was going to make Callahan suffer, and that meant not listening to him for as long as I could.

When my new cell was delivered, I broke the screen and set it outside of my room. When food was delivered, I took the tiniest bit of it to hold me over. Not only because I wanted to make him pay. I was still concerned with my healing. The vet had said the wounds didn’t puncture my digestive tract, but I was still careful. I walked carefully, held my body carefully, and I endured without showing the slightest bit of pain. I knew I would have to be careful to cover my bruises for a few more days and my stomach for a few more weeks.

And while I healed, I decided to act out. I made a mess of the food that was brought to me, tipping it over onto his hallway carpet and shutting the door. I also made sure to bend his stupid credit card up enough that it split into pieces before I set that outside my door too.

I didn’t want a thing from him until he agreed to give me more time with the wedding.

I needed time.

Time to plan.

Time to strategize.

Time to heal.

11

Callahan