The photographs René had shown Despi of her slain family would live inside her as surely as Evan’s memories of Parking Level 3 lived inside him. He couldn’t undo it for her. Not just her present anguish but the years of pain to come, dividends paid out over the decades.

She looked up at him with the same fierceness she’d shown minutes before. “You think my family would’ve been safe if I hadn’t helped you? Don’t be naïve.”

He hadn’t thought anything could shock him right now, but there it was. “Naïve?”

“You think you’re at the controls just like René. But you couldn’t control this.”

He felt his face loosening with emotion.

She said, “Accepting that you need help like everyone else—it doesn’t guarantee a good outcome. Nothing does.”

He had a hard time swallowing. “Then why do it?”

She kissed him. Her tears, wet against his cheeks. She pulled away, held his face, her breath hot. “I don’t know how to live with this. With what I saw.”

“I know. I know that’s how it feels.”

“How would you kill me? Right now?” Her voice held a note of pleading.

He looked at her brimming eyes. The wisp of hair caught in the corner of her mouth. Felt the warmth of her pressed against him, her fragile, human form.

For the first time, he had no answer.

Dex snapped a black hood over her head and yanked her out of Evan’s arms. He dragged her to the Rolls-Royce, her legs stumbling to keep up. After cinching the hood and knotting it off, he opened the rear door, depositing her inside. He reversed out of the barn, the back of the majestic car kissing a snowbank outside, and drove off.

Evan felt a sting in his palms and unclenched his fists to see that his fingernails had indented the skin. He looked over at René. “At one point the tables will be turned—”

“And … let me guess,” René said. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Worse.”

René must have read something in Evan’s voice, because he blinked a few times. Regained his composure. Forced a smile.

Outside, a band of gold rode the horizon, tinting the caps of the snowbanks blue. René checked his watch. “The markets are almost open. Are you ready to wire the money?”

Evan cleared his throat, spit a gob of blood on the pristine blue mat. “No,” he said.

René gave a little nod and then breezed out, passing two of his men. “Search him and bring him to the lab.”

42. Corners of His Mind

42

Corners of His Mind