Page 71 of Kept in the Dark
“Da.I needed to ask you if Kyle said anything to you at the wedding that made you suspect what he had planned.”
“No. I only remember… thinly veiled insults, bored answers to my questions, and him propositioning me. You already know how he stole my purse to make me chase him, presumably so he could corner me alone in the maze and kill me without witnesses…” I shiver.
“How did he seem? How was he acting?”
“Erratic. I was pretty sure he was on drugs. Something in his voice. And I could have sworn I saw blood on his shirt, even before I hit him with my shoe.”
He nods, eyes darting around as he considers that.
I’m silent as I work on the wound, letting him wrap his brain around my lack of information and how it slots in with his plan. I nearly repeat my request for information when he speaks again.
“Normally, I would not share this with a civilian,” he begins, making me tense. I’m not sure why being called a civilian feels so strange. Militant. “But you are inextricably involved. And I promised I would do what I could to prove that you could trust me. Honesty is important for this,da?”
“Da,” I repeat, hiding a smile when his eyes flash.
“Our current problems revolve around this USB. Because we do not know what it contains, we do not know what kind of danger you are in.”
“It could be nothing?” I ask, knowing that makes no sense. Kyle wouldn’t have done what he did to me if it was nothing.
“More likely, it is very incriminating or valuable—this is my concern. We do notknowwho knows about what Kyle did, or who might be looking for you now, but we have logical assumptions. Kyle was part of aBratvafamily, one of a few that operate out of Ulysses. This USB belongs to them, and they will want it back.”
Acid churns in my stomach as the unfairness of the situation starts settling in. It’s suffocating, making my eyes sting. I pull back halfway through the act of applying a butterfly bandage so I can read his expression as I ask, “Then can’t we give it back? Or, make it seem like someone else has it?”
The shake of his head is full of regret. “Even if we did, if they knew you had it for any amount of time, you are a loose end, and aBratvadoes not leave those to unravel.”
“And we can’t go to the police,” I guess, just like I did forever ago in that car as we fled the scene of so many crimes.
“No, Nicole—you understand why,da? It is likely that the Volkevich family is bribing or blackmailing someone high up in the police force. And even if they are not, the police will be looking for you as a missing person. And, by extension, me. The lives of my teammates, of anyone connected to us, and of any officer involved are also at risk now.”
Fuck. Well, I made things a lot worse, didn’t I?
“So… what? I have to leave Ulysses, right? It’s a big country… I’m sure I could disappear. Everything I own is basically ready to go, already packed up and in a U-Haul.”
The words sit heavy in the air, and I kind of wish I hadn’t said them. Especially when he stiffens.
“If you want to leave, we can provide a new identity and teach you how to safeguard yourself. But it is not a good life to be alone and on the run. I am not speaking of days or months, but for the rest of your life. Could you start over as someone else? Never speak to your family or friends again? Could you kill to protect yourself?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, sinking further into discomfort and fear with each rhetorical question. I hate feeling so helpless.
“Then let me help you.” It’s a grumbling kind of plea, settling deep around my bones. “Stay here with me. Wesley will install a camera at your rented home to alert us if anyone comes looking for you.”
“Okay. Then what? You’re going to make it safe for me to leave somehow?”
He nods. “We will find out what is on that USB, and we will make sure the VolkevichBratvawill not be a threat to you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. He wants to help me.Why?
A small, scared part of me isn’t ready to face the reality and paralyzing fear of knowing someone dangerous is after me, and I want to sink my nails into his offer for protection. But a much larger part of me is nervous and a little suspicious of it.
I stay here and he protects me, feeds me, clothes me, cleans upmymess for me after he saved me from becoming a victim of Kyle’s evil plan… It’s an odd sort of helplessness. It feels like being given a gift I can’t hope to reciprocate. I’m not lucky or pretty or popular or special—no one just gives me things. I earn them. I rely on myself.
Is he making amends? He feels bad for kidnapping me, and he wants to make things right?
“How are you going to do that?”
His jaw works, and he captures my stare with one of icy determination. “However we must. They are bad men who have done many bad things, Nicole. They do not deserve to live or to be mourned.”
Gulp.So it’s part of the job he’s working on, then. Relief mingles with an odd kind of pride that he’s willing to literally kill people so I’ll be safe, followed closely by guilt for feeling that way.
