Page 97 of The Ruling Class
“I’m here,” Ivy said, her voice authoritative and calm. “We can all get what we want, but not if you don’t step away from the girl.”
“I get what I want,” Kostas replied, “or I press down on this.” He indicated the needle in his hands. “She will not survive an air bubble to the heart.”
In. Out. In. Out.I forced myself to breathe.He’s going to kill me.
“I’m not armed. No one knows I’m here. I came alone.” Ivy wasn’t looking at me—only at him. “You need to let her go, and then we can talk.”
I felt Kostas tense beside me. “That wasn’t the deal.” The Secret Service agent’s free hand slid to the far side of my neck,then tightened. I couldn’t twist away from the needle. I couldn’t move. “No talking,” he told Ivy. “You get me what I want, and you get your sister back.”
I could feel my heartbeat in my neck, tensing against my skin. I could feel it, pounding back against my captor’s hold.
“I can’t summon up a presidential pardon on a whim, Kostas,” Ivy said.
“You said you had what I wanted.”
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In—
“I said I could get you what you want. And I can. But first you have to let her go.”
A low, inhuman whine reached my ears. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was me.
“If I let her go,” Kostas bit out, “I have nothing to bargain with.”
He wants to let me go. Hewantsto, I thought, desperation twisting in my gut,but he won’t.
Ivy took a single step forward. “You’ll have me. The president won’t bargain for my sister’s life. But he might bargain for mine.”
I realized then what she was saying. My throat tightened, my arms tensing against the bindings so hard the pain should have brought tears to my eyes. “Ivy,” I said, my voice escaping my throat in a hoarse whisper. “No.”
I could picture her, that day on the tarmac.You’re my kid.Mine, Tess.
“You’re that valuable to him?” Kostas asked Ivy, his grip on my neck tightening slightly.
Don’t, Ivy. My mouth wouldn’t form the words.Don’t do this.
“Keeping me alive is that important to his administration.” Ivy’s voice never wavered. “In my line of work, it pays to have an insurance policy. I know where the bodies are buried. I know every skeleton in every closet. If I didn’t have some method of ensuring that it was to my clients’ benefit that I stay alive, eventually someone would decide that the only way to make sure their secrets stayed buried was to bury me, too.”
Stop it, Ivy. Stop talking.I willed her to listen, willed her to stop before it was too late, but she didn’t. Shewouldn’t.
“If I go off the grid, a program is initiated, and all those secrets—everything I’ve learned, everything I know, everything I’ve buried—are released. Online. To the media.”
“You worked on the president’s election campaign,” Kostas said. “You’ve worked for him since.”
“I have.”
“You’re saying he has secrets.”
“I am.”
“You’re saying that if I holdyou—”
“He might give you what you want,” Ivy supplied. “If you haveme.”
I’d spent my whole life as an orphan. I’d mourned the parents I’d never even gotten the chance to know. Now Ivy was here, doing this, and I couldn’t push down the voice inside me that said that I was going to lose her, too.
I felt numb. I felt like I was lying on my back in a dark hole, and there was someone at the top, throwing dirt down on top of me. Burying me.
“You’ll stay,” Kostas ordered, his gaze sharp on Ivy’s. “Contact the president.”
