Page 26 of Darkest Deeds
Ava
Special Agent Ethan Schaefferis wound tighter than a two-dollar watch with a perpetual hard-on for punctuality. That’s why I have no regrets over banging on his door at one thirty in the morning. Other than suffering a horrific death, I can’t think of an acceptable reason for him to have bailed on me tonight.
It takes less than thirty seconds for him to fling the door open until it bounces off the wall. The clean-cut professional is gone. In his place stands a disheveled mess of a man. “Where the fuck have you been?”
I cautiously step inside, keeping an eye on the still open exit. “And a pleasant evening to you too.”
“Stop deflecting.” He slams the door, taking time to lock it and engage the chain. His broad shoulders tense, and as he slowly turns to face me, whatever pair of gigantic lady balls I mustered instantly deflate under his intimidating stare. We may not like each other very much, but Ethan is the closest thing I have to an ally in this fucked-up game, and his silence is deafening.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about Niko’s threats, but the confession gets stuck in my throat. Niko promised to own my fear. He’s always been a man of few words, so I have no doubt the ones he spoke were lethal.
Plus, being at the mercy of the FBI, I need at least one piece of leverage.
“Where were you?” I counter. “I was in room four at midnight waiting on you like you said. You’re the one who never showed.”
“I said room five.”
“No, you said four.”
“Really?” he asks, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips. “Is that why I have four hours of footage of middle-aged assholes fucking underage girls in school uniforms?”
Oh God. Oh no.
“I need something on Sergei now, Ava, or the deal is off.”
“I need more time!” I fling my arm wildly, and my purse slips off my shoulder. Pulling it back up, I hold the strap tightly against me, hoping like hell he doesn’t get suspicious. “You want me to get sloppy and raise suspicion?”
“I want you to get me what you promised.” He sounds angry. Honestly, I can’t blame him. I’d be pissed at me too. “Do I have to remind you what’s at stake?” he asks, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Or who.”
I take a step back and clench my purse tighter. “No. I know what I have to do.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is he’s too good at covering his tracks.” I take another step back, and Ethan nods toward a set of empty bar chairs across from me. I’m in no mood to socialize, but I need to pick my battles. Begrudgingly, I take a seat beside him. “I don’t have the access you seem to think I do. He doesn’t trust me.”
He leans forward and runs his fingertip along my jawline. “Everyone has a weakness to exploit, Ava.”
It takes everything I have to keep my voice steady. “You’d know all about exploiting weaknesses, wouldn’t you?”
I study Ethan’s face as his brown eyes narrow, and his thin lips purse so tightly they’re almost invisible. He’s not hard to read. The Miami office is the minor league of the FBI, and I’m his golden ticket to the majors in Quantico. Our worlds may be at constant odds, but justice and crime aren’t all that different. At the end of the day, we both kill to protect our own and uphold an oath we’ve sworn to defend.
“Cheap shot. Have you considered that maybe we’re trying to help you? That maybe we’re trying to save you from destroying yourself for that monster? That maybe for your sanity and the safety of the citizens of Florida we were destined to meet?”
I pull away and roll my eyes, surprised he had the nerve to ask me that, but more annoyed he thought I’d believe it. I don’t believe in destiny. Things happen in life for a reason, and that reason is a person with a motive. That doesn’t make me a conspiracy theorist—it makes me smart.
“Ava…”
“You want to help me?” I ask, holding his stare. “Walk away. Forget my name. Pretend you never walked into Seven and blackmailed me into being your stepping stone. You’re playing with fire, but I’m the one who’s going to get burned.”
His eyebrows draw together. “I’m sorry. I wish I could, but my hands are tied in bureaucratic tape.”
Standing slowly, I tug on the end of my T-shirt until it’s stick straight and patch every bleeding wound I just opened. “Fuck your tape.”
I head toward the door when a strong hand grabs my arm from behind and flips me around. Shivers ripple down my body, but I don’t scream. I’m too shocked at being pinned against the closed door.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Raising an eyebrow, I glance down to where his hands are gripping my shoulders. “Are you in any position to be asking me that question?”