Two agents stand inside the room while I pace back and forth in the elevator bank, my mind roaming fast. So many possibilities are there to confound oneself.
I am playing with the devil.
It's a dark thought and I don't want to decide who the devil is, at least not for now.
It's been more than half an hour with no phone call from Adrian. Will he really be willing to see Megan? I watch the busy people surrounding me, a few perched behind their desk working, a few making shitty coffees in the coffeemaker in a corner, a few walking in and out of the file-storage.
The elevator pings but I don't turn. I've already turned to see four times only to be disappointed.
"Hey," a familiar voice breaths from my left, startling ne. "Everything okay?"
Adrian's blue eyes stay on my face, anxious. His hair is unruly, a very unusual sight, his cheeks flushed probably from the air outside.
"Yes," I answer, my eyes darting towards the steps that lead to the interrogation room. Hart gives me an encouraging look when Adrian and I reach the corridor. "Megan's inside. She... uh, wants to see you."
Adrian stares for a few seconds, his eyes widening slowly in disbelief. His disappointment is evident in his tone as he speaks, "You dragged me all the way for this, Dawn?"
"I'm sorry." I shake my head, guilty for being selfish as always. "I really need you to do this, please."
"Dawn." He looks unsettled. Followed by a frown, he sighs only. "Fine. You owe me."
"I already do," I add with a tiny grateful smile. "I'll make it quick in there."
Megan's blye eyes crinkle to see me, her lips curving into a candid amile, making her look younger than she really is.
I sit across from her, eying her skeptically.
"He's outside. You answer my questions. I confirm them and you get to see him."
"One thing at a time, Dawn," she scolds, although her voice is soft, holding mirth. "I know a lot of things. What do you want go know?"
My hands are trembling under the desk, fortunately out of her sight.
"Is he alive?"
The room is silent, void of any noise that could comfort me. I am holding my breath, watching her opting for one dramatic pause.
My heart pounds inside my chest and I realise it's been a long time I've felt this way.
"Yes," she responds finally. "As far as I know."
I try not to let out a sob, my face painfully impassive for my liking. There's a lump in my throat that fights to dissolve into tears but I'm not crying in front of Megan.
I still am not sure how to be happy about this. He's alive, most probably the one who sent me the painting.
That bastard is alive.
"Where is he?" My voive is terribly low and I don't like it at all.
"You're pushing your luck." Megan looks slightly offended.
"If I leave now, you won't get to talk to Adrian. It's upto you." I stand, my knees shaking uncontrollably. I am hoping to hear her voice anytime.
She does, as predicted, speak out, "Fine. Carrol Gardens. It's 541, Henry Street, Brooklyn." A pause and a roll of eyes. "Second floor."
I tell myself I don't want to ask her how she knows. But my curiosity is piqued. "How did you even know?"
"I have my ways." She shrugs casually. "Someone dismantled half of my networks. Who would that be, Dawn?"
YOU ARE READING
Here's to Us (Blood Money #2)
Romance"What we had is over, Dawn. You don't have to do this anymore. You're free to go." I traced the glass separating us with my fingers, looking into his green eyes and whispered to the phone, "So you want to know why I'm still here?" He just stare...
