Chapter 10
When the front door opens, I lie on the couch and close my eyes. I don’t want him to know I’ve spent several hours going through the laptop. There wasn’t a massive amount on there, butloadsof photos of Michael when he was a kid, those bright eyes a complete giveaway. He was fishing with a man called Luka, his name on one of the rods, with a bald head and a stringy silver beard.
There was more, too, but it was confusing. A special type of internet browser that opened directly onto a website called The Answer. There was a short tagline. Are you brave enough to fight? When I clickedcreate an account, it asked me to deposit ten thousand dollars into some Bitcoin wallet or something.
Obviously, I couldn’t do that, so I went through the photos slowly. I found myself thinking about if Michael and I had kids and if they’d look like him, a big grin on his face as he hefted a large fish. A few photos show a young woman, maybe his mother. They were the ones I stared at the most. She looked at him with so much love in her eyes. Hours went by like that. How sad, but it was better than wondering and stressing.
Demon walks over to greet Michael. I sit up as if it’s just woke me. Then I quickly spring to my feet. I just wanted him to think I’dbeensleeping, to explain what I did with all this time. “Where’s Mom? What’s happened?”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated. I need to feed—”
“I fed him. I gave him the amount on the label.”
“Oh good, thank you.” He walks into the living room, sitting on the chair, massaging his forehead. “It’s complicated.”
I sit on the edge of the couch. The spacing of his furniture tells me he rarely has guests. We’re sitting very far apart. The space is so open that I have to raise my voice. It would be better if he were sitting over here, and that’s not for selfish, steamy reasons.
“Complicated how?”
He sighs. “Diego thinks your mother has a hard drive with a cryptocurrency account on it.”
“What? Why the hell would he think that?”
Michael leans forward. His shoulders are tense, like round boulders pressing through his T-shirt. He stares at me with those sharp, biting blue eyes. “Because she told him in Vegas. She got drunk, stumbled over, and told him the whole damn tale, all because she found his facial tattoos amusing.”
I shake my head. “What tale?”
“Your dad’s friend stole it. Then your dad stole it but didn’t want to use it. So they just hid it for years. Later…” He shakes his head. “She figured out how to use it.”
“You helped her use it, you mean,” I say.
He laughs grimly. “You think you’ve got it all figured out?” His gaze moves to the TV unit and then to the drawer. He looks at it for a moment, then at me, then back at the drawer. I try not to show any fear. I don’t have to be afraid of this man. His gaze returns to me. “In any case, it’s gone. I’m currently having a new one made. It should be a decent replica. In the meantime…”
He takes out his phone, swipes a few times, and then hands it to me. “I managed to get you this.”
I eagerly take the phone, ignoring the strange shimmer that travels up my arm when our fingers touch. Mom is standing in a kitchen in front of the sink. Her clothes look dirty, and her hair is pulled back and greasy, but I don’t see any injuries.
“Hey, little pattycake,” Mom says, and I almost cry, blink hard, and feel the tears stinging against my eyes, but they don’t fall. I push them back. I have to be strong. “I’ve got myself into a bad spot. I love you. I’m not hurt. They’ve told me Michael is looking into this. You remember Michael, right?” Mom smiles, her eyes getting that excited shine they used to when he came back.
How evil is this? I can’t even watch a video of my mom, seeing her alive,unharmed, without getting jealous. It’s pathetic. It’s immature.
“I’ll be with you soon. I know I will.”
The video ends. I replay it and watch it again, looking for any details.
“Can we track this?” I ask.
Michael shakes his head, idly stroking Demon on the top of the head. He won’t look at me—Michael, not the Great Dane. Michael is staring off into space. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding my gaze.
“How much money was in this wallet, then?” I ask, wondering if he’ll tell mesomething, at least.
“One and a half million.”
I gasp. “What if he checks the wallet? What if he realizes the money’s not on there?”
“The money will be on there,” he grunts, “but there are programming tricks I can play. He won’t get a dime, and we’ll get your mom back. If he comes looking for you after that, I’ll put a goddamn bullet in his head.”
The sudden confession shocks me. He stands quickly and stares down at me for a few moments. His hands are shaking. It’s like he cares about me. It’s an insane thing even to let myself think, but what else can I think? He’s looking at me like he’d die for me.
I want to let him. I want to follow this energy if I’m judging it correctly. It’s not like I’ve ever done anything like this before. “When will the replica be ready?” I ask.
“Tomorrow evening. That’s when we’ll do the handoff. Until then, you’re staying here. I’ll pick you up some clean clothes tomorrow.”
He marches off toward the corridor. My stomach drops, and I almost call him back here. We’ve got hours left, with nothing to do but sit around, think, and wonder if our kids will have those sharp blue eyes.
Demon grunts and walks over, laying his chin on my knee. I’m sure there are worse prisons than this.