and I don’t want to interrupt him—not in the mood he’s in
today.
As I wait for him to finish, it occurs to me that I ha一ve
not eaten today. Oh shit, that’s not going to go down well
with Fifty. I quickly skip down to the kitchen to see if there
are any cookies left.
As I’m opening the communal cookie jar, Jack
appears unexpectedly in the kitchen doorway, startling me.
Oh. What’s he doing here?
He stares at me. “Well, Ana, I think this might be a
good time to discuss your misdemeanors.” He steps in,
closing the door behind him, and my mouth instantly dries
as alarm bells ring loud and piercing in my head.
Oh fuck.
His lips twitch into a grotesque smile, and his eyes
gleam a deep, dark cobalt. “At last, I ha一ve you on your
own,” he says, and he slowly licks his lower lip.
What?
“Now . . . are you going to be a good girl and listen
very carefully to what I say?”
Jack’s eyes flash the darkest blue, and he sneers as he
casts a leering look down my body.
Fear chokes me. What is this? What does he want? From
somewhere deep inside and despite my dry mouth, I find
the resolve and courage to squeeze out some words, my
self-defense class keep-them-talking mantra circling my
brain like an ethereal sentinel.
“Jack, now might not be a good time for this. Your cab
is due in ten minutes, and I need to give you all your
documents.” My voice is quiet but hoarse, betraying me.
documents.” My voice is quiet but hoarse, betraying me.
He smiles, and it’s a despotic fuck-you smile that
finally touches his eyes. They glint in the harsh fluorescent
glow of the strip light above us in the drab windowless
room. He takes a step toward me, glaring at me, his eyes
never lea一ving mine. His pupils are dilating as I watch—the
black eclipsing the blue. Oh no. My fear escalates.
“You know I had to fight with Elizabeth to give you this
job . . .” His voice trails off as he takes another step
toward me, and I step back against the dingy wall
cupboards. Keep-him-talking, keep-him-talking, keephim-
talk
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