Page 18 of Ruin Me With Lies
“You want translation, I’m giving you a translation.”I open my eyes, arching a brow.“I don’t have the answers yet, but If you shut up and let me work, you might get them.”
He looks at me like he can’t believe the nerve of me.“You got a fucking death wish or something?”
“All my life.”I take another sip of coffee.“But death tends to stay elusive for those who want it most.”
He frowns, studying me like a puzzle he can’t quite solve.
Ignoring him, I close my eyes and tune in again.
The disagreement escalates.Now it’s two against two.Yelling, shouting, name-calling…
I nibble on a biscotti, absently noting how comically incompatible these four are as a team.No trust, no cohesion.
Then...Bingo.
“There’s a tracker…” I tilt my head, listening intently, relaying in real time.“Someone paid them three times what you did to plant it in the package… They want the location of your artillery storage… To hit it, clean you out, steal your clientèle.”
“Motherfucking Russians,” Lorenzo mutters under his breath.
He picks up his phone and makes a call.“Yeah, did you sweep for a tracker?… Well, check again.They were paid to plant one.Clean us out later.… That’s not important right now....For fuck’s sake, yes, I made the call to bring her in.You can bitch about it later.For now, pull off and run a second sweep....Yeah, yeah, sure.”
He hangs up and drops the phone onto the desk.
“In trouble with the big boss for bringing me in on private matters?”I ask.
He shoots me a glare, but it holds no animosity.“Shut up.”
“Last night, you were all ‘use your words.’ Now I’m using them, and you want me to shut up.”
“Use themless.”
I smile into my coffee mug.
A few minutes later, his phone rings.He answers, listens, then slides his gaze to me.“You sure you’re not bullshitting me?There’s no tracker.”
“Doyouthink I’m bullshitting?”
“You just admitted to having a lifelong death wish,” he replies.“Maybe you’re trying to get it fulfilled.”
Sliding him a smile, I shrug.“Maybe.”
He studies me for a long beat, then says into the phone, “No, she’s not lying.I’m convinced she’s disturbed.But not stupid.”
I almost snort at that.
With a sigh, Lorenzo sets the phone down and hits the speaker button.“She’s listening.”
Stefano’s voice comes through, and my stomach dips.Concaves.
Jesus.Get a grip.
“Hey, Little Miss Multilingual.Tell me exactly what was said in the car.Word for word.”
Screw that.“Someone from your camp fed them information,” I say.“If they knew the meet spot was wired, they probably knew you would scan for trackers, too.”
“What?”
“Oh, my bad.You don’t know about the warehouse yet.Lorenzo will fill you in.”I keep my tone even.“For now, let’s focus on the tracker.Were there bullets in the package?”
