Inside of myself, I didn’t think it would have felt any different than if someone had reached inside my chest with one of those hand-held mixers running on high power.  Everything inside me was churning painfully, and my muscles were so tight, I could barely breathe.  Someone with logic on their side would have recognized it as the same emotion as Lia’s but with the opposite response; all I could feel was anger.

“Why would I tell you all this shit just to kill you off?  You think I fucking liked talking about this, huh?  You think I wanted to?  I’ve never talked to anyone about any of that shit unless I was under direct fucking orders.  Never.”

I was nearly panting, and there was pressure behind my eyes I was finding difficult to hold back.  I wasn’t even sure what was happening in my head; it all just felt bad.

She’s going to leave.

Lia’s arms were wrapped around her stomach, and she was pushing herself against the wall now—anything to get farther away from me.  Everything inside of me wanted to grab my Beretta and start shooting the shit out of something—anything.  There was some kind of geyser just under my skin, trying to find the weakest point to break through in a gush of steam and boiling rage.

I managed to take in an audible breath, and I tried to let it out slowly.  Lia tensed even more, and I wanted to turn the damn gun on myself for scaring her so much.  It wasn’t what I wanted.  I would have been the first to admit that I didn’t really know exactly what I wanted, but this definitely wasn’t it.

I dropped my ass onto the bed and my head onto the palms of my hands.  I pushed at my eye sockets to try to relieve the pressure there a bit and ignored the fact that my hands ended up a little damp.

Turning my head to the side, I looked over at her.  Lia’s posture had relaxed a little, but she still kept glancing at the door.

“I can’t let you just walk out,” I said.  “I’ll take you somewhere, but I can’t let you go out there on your own.”

“You really are serious about all of this,” Lia said—part statement, part question.

“Yeah, it’s all true.  I don’t have any reason to lie to you about this, do I?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t.”

She nodded, and her eyes moved to stare at me for several silent minutes.

“I need a little time,” she said softly.  “I need to think for a minute.”

Lia moved slowly around the corner of the wall, watching me the entire time, to the bathroom where she shut herself in.  I heard the click of the lock right after the door closed and dropped my head back into my hands.

I’d been wrong.  Telling her everything was a stupid fucking idea.  Not only was she never going to have anything to do with me again, but having knowledge of the few facts I had revealed was enough to get her on someone’s watch list and very possibly just decide she wasn’t worth the risk and take her out.

No, it was too late to avoid that anyway.  She’d been with me enough, had even seen at the prison with me, and was already in that kind of danger.  I’d already fucked her over just by being around her.  If someone picked her up and questioned her yesterday, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything, but they wouldn’t have believed her.

I’d fucked this up as much as I possibly could have, and at the end of the day, she was still going to be gone, and except for Odin, I was going to be alone again.  I’d be back to fucking hookers, having no one I could really talk to, and just counting the days until my sleep-deprived state took me back into total meltdown.

Status quo.

It was probably for the best for both of us.

So why didn’t I believe it?

Because it was best for her, not for me, and I’d learned to be a selfish son of a bitch over the years.  If I could think of something to say to her that would convince her to stay with me, accept who I was and what I did and not be afraid, I would use those words in a heartbeat.  As it was, I was only a slight step away from being a big enough bastard to hold her against her will.

Would I really do that?

Fuck.

Yeah, I might.

Though I was both repulsed and intrigued with the idea, I was also trying to figure out how I felt, knowing that I was capable of something like that.  It seemed far worse than just killing someone. Once you’re dead, you’re dead—no pain, no suffering.  Hell, I’d wished for it myself repeatedly.

I knew what being held captive was like, though—I knew how it felt to be so completely within someone else’s control.  I knew exactly what it did to someone when they were imprisoned, and I was considering doing the same thing to her.  I didn’t think I would do it—not because I didn’t want to—I did—but that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of it.  I clearly was, and now that the thought was in my head, I couldn’t seem to shake it.

Shit!  What if she demands I let her leave, and I can’t do it?

The muscles in my arms and legs were so tight, I was starting to shake a little.  Even though I knew there was air coming into my lungs, it still felt like I wasn’t breathing.  I tried to find another cigarette, but I had already smoked the few I had bought off the guy at the front desk.  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to shove thoughts of Lia, handcuffed to my bed, out of my mind.

“Evan?”  Lia’s fingers touched my shoulder, and I startled.

I dropped my hands and looked up at her, waiting for the words that were likely to feel like a stake being shoved through my heart.  She didn’t say anything, though.  She just wrapped her arms around my head and pulled me against her body.

I lifted my arms to grasp her waist and pull her closer to me.  My fingers wrapped around her shirt right at the small of her back, and I clutched at the material.  Her warmth was instantly soothing, and a moment later heart rending, because I didn’t know how long it would last.

“Don’t leave,” I heard myself beg.  “Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she responded.

My throat seized up, and I couldn’t speak.  I tilted my head up to look into her face and try to figure out if I had heard her right.  If she meant it, I wouldn’t have to test myself.  I wouldn’t find out if I was really willing to hold her captive like that.

“You’re not?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly as she leaned back to look at me, and I tightened my fingers around the fabric of her shirt to keep her close.

“Why not?” I heard myself ask.  I wanted to take back the words immediately.  Asking her to justify why she was staying could very well lead her to change her mind.

“Because you are a mess, and I can’t just leave you like this!” she nearly yelled but then softened her tone.  “I needed to find you for a reason.  I didn’t completely understand it at the time, but now I think I do.  I thought I just needed you, but it seems you need me even more.”

“I do need you,” I said quietly.  “It kinda scares me.”

“Me too,” Lia agreed, “but I can’t just…just condone this, Evan.  I don’t think I’m wired that way.”

I tensed again and waited for her to explain exactly what she meant.

“Can you just quit?” she asked.  “I mean, walk away and never go back?  You said it wasn’t like the movies, but I never really watched those movies.  I don’t know the rules.”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.  “I’ve never thought about it, so I’ve never asked.  I know I can’t leave now, though.”

“Why not?”

“I have…I have a job to do.”

“You mean someone to kill?”

“Not exactly.”

“Quit being so damn cryptic!” Lia snapped as she pushed away from me.  “I certainly hope I’ve heard the worst by now, and being evasive isn’t going to make me feel any better!”

I reached out and pulled her back to me.  She came reluctantly but didn’t actually resist.  I tightened my grip on her, completely afraid to let her go now.  She hadn’t heard the worst, but she’d certainly heard enough.  She knew that whatever she decided to do, I shouldn’t have to lie to her about what I was doing.

It was time to tell her the rest.

“It has to do with why I got released,” I said.  “I made a deal with a couple of federal agents.  One of them was the guy you talked to outside my apartment.  The other was inside talking to me at the same time.”

I kept my grip on her shirt as I looked up at her, and she scrutinized me cautiously as I spoke.

“Most of the organizations in the city deal with the usual: politics, corruption of law enforcement, bribery, marketeering, money laundering, prostitution—all that typical stuff.  There’s enough of that to go around, and they tend to work together pretty well for the common interest as far as the local government and police go.  Outside of that, there are some specialized businesses primarily run by separate families.”

Lia continued to watch me intently.

“I work for Rinaldo Moretti,” I told her.  “His family runs the majority of the casinos and has its hands in strip joints, a lot of weapon sales, cocaine, and the caviar trade.”

“Caviar?” Lia’s brow furrowed.  “That’s not illegal.”

“Well, yeah, actually,” I corrected, “some of it is.  It depends on where it comes from and how you get it.  It’s a business that is heavily regulated—like the sale of ivory or something like that.  Some of it’s legal, but a lot of it isn’t.  It’s actually a bigger business than a lot of the drug trade.”

“Shit,” Lia said.  “I had no idea.”

“Overfishing caused a shortage,” I replied.  “Shortage means higher demand.  Higher demand means there’s room for organized crime to step in and make sure we’re the ones with the best supply when it comes to the kind of shit stupidly rich people will pay for.  It’s like gorilla-hand ashtrays or certain types of cars.  Yeah, you can get them legally, but it’s a pain in the ass.  Sometimes it’s easier to get them illegally.”