Page 169 of Deceit

“To do what? Are you going to swing by and take them? Are we done playing this stupid game of you wanting to do this by yourself?”

My shoulders slump. “No.”

“Great, then, no you can’t help me. You could hire a few rent-a-cops to take a few bullets for me when Bish tries to assassinate me.”

“He’s not going to hurt you,” I reply softly. “He’s just…angry.”

“You didn’t see his face.”

“I’m—“

“Don’tsay sorry,” he seized out again. “I’ve heard enough of it. I walked into this, I agreed to it…because you left me no other choice.”

“You already know why,” I retort. “Do we really have to go over the points again?”

“Nope.” He remains silent for a moment, and I can picture him rubbing at his forehead and calming down his breathing. “What’s the news on Alexander?”

“He’s building a case, hired a lawyer.”

“So we’re fucked.”

“Uh, no. I’ll be at the courthouse if it comes down to it.”

“Suicide mission, got it.”

“Can’t be if I’m already dead.”

“Emmy,” Mills leers. “You’re going to show up with B723 and me there? You don’t think someone is going to see you?”

“No, not really. I dyed my hair and cut it. I’ve practically lost ten pounds from stress and I have a limp because I twisted my ankle the other night on a shoe. So, I’m not the same ‘ole Emmy.”

“It’s not funny.”

“No shit, it hurt like a bitch.”

“Do I need to be ready? For this court shit?”

I nod. “Yeah...just in case. He’s not going to stop. Alexander’s investigator is running out of things to look me up on. Give it a few more days, and he’s fired.”

“Any luck with the bank accounts?”

“Almost. I think I figured out how the coding system works with how the passwords are selected.”

“You’ll have to show me that trick sometime.”

“Consider it payment for the help.”

“You’ll need to do more than that. I want a lifetime supply of…something.”

I tsk. “Well, when you figure that out, let me know.” A soft little baby voice sounds in the background, and my heart swells. “Is that Atlas?”

“Yeah, she just woke up. Lemme put you on speakerphone.”

He does, and I speak to her and ask her about her day. I refer to Mills as her fairy godmother, to which he replies with some crude remark not for children’s ears. Alaric is sleeping to which he normally does longer than Atlas anyway. At first, it used to worry me, but Atlas seems to always be searching for something with her eyes Mills tells me.

My little map attempting to locate the missing piece of her life—me.

“I’m going to feed her,” Mills announces. “Hold on, I’ll switch to video call so you can see her.”

---