Page 49 of Demitri

Demitri: Of course.

Joker: The minute the money disappeared from the account, tracing started running. Looks like it was set up a while back. They traced it to the new account.

Demitri: Did they get any of it?

Joker: Fuck you. I set that puppy up tighter than Ft. Knox. There’re more firewalls and alarms than the CIA has.

Demitri: Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

Joker: …

Demitri: I know you aren’t typing, dude. The three dots aren’t gonna get me. Again.

Joker: *gif of Chris Evans smirking*

Demitri: Oh, the guy’s got jokes.

Joker: I don’t joke.

Demitri: *gif of Chris Evans laughing*

Joker: Enough funny business, I’m going to let them in so I can trace them back.

Demitri: And how much money are you letting me take?

Joker: A million. Did you know you’re fucking loaded?

Demitri: That’s not my money. I haven’t touched it.

Joker: The man’s dead. He was a horrible human. You can’t get revenge, but you can spend his money like you don’t care.

Demitri: Doesn’t feel right.

Joker: When you find the right thing to spend it on, it will.

Demitri: Noted.

Joker: I’ll let you know what I find.

Demitri: Thanks. Glad you’re on my side.

Joker: You should be. Talk later.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

MIA

“I know,I’ll be fine, Demitri,” I say into the phone. “Seriously, I’ll be home in a little over an hour, okay?”

“Will you let me know when you leave?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Fine, sorry. Just worried.”

“I know.” I sigh. “I’ll let you know when I leave, okay?”

We disconnect the call, and I sit in my car, shaking my head and laughing to myself. Sometimes I’m not sure who the worrywart of this, whatever we’re calling it, is. I stare up at my therapist’s office, not wanting to go in, but knowing I need to. There are things we need to talk about, things I’m ready to talk about, but that doesn’t mean I don’t dread it.

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