Deceptive Innocence by Kyra Davis

Author:Kyra Davis [Davis, Kyra]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2014-06-23T16:00:00+00:00

chapter twenty

* * *

On my walk from the subway station to home, I stop to see Mary and hand her a plastic bag from Duane Reade. “Three Crunchy Peanut Butter Clif Bars, one Smartwater, one Strawberry Shortcake coloring book, colored pencils, and a new sharpener,” I say proudly.

“Aren’t you nice!” she says. She reaches for the food first. “Crunchy Peanut Butter’s good . . . but Apricot’s my favorite.”

I start to say something, but she nods over toward my apartment building. “There’s one of ’em fancy cars parked down there. You think the president’s come for a visit?”

I follow her gaze and see that there is in fact a limo in front of my apartment building.

That’s not normal. It’s a little smaller than Lander’s limo, so it’s not him, thank God. I don’t want him to know where I live. Still, its presence here is odd.

“Mary, I gotta go,” I say distractedly as I walk toward the car.

“Hey, how’d you know my name?” she calls out behind me, but I keep walking. As I get a little closer I can see that there’s a small dent near the back of the driver’s side, giving this luxury ride a little roughness.

I slow my pace as I watch the back door open, and a large, bald man wearing a suit that almost succeeds in hiding all his tattoos steps out.

I know this man.

“Hello there, Sweet!” he booms in his unusual accent.

I flash him a nervous smile. “It’s been a while, Micah.”

“Too long,” he agrees. “I was just in your neighborhood and figured I’d see if you’d like to grab a bite. What do you say?”

He knows the answer is yes. No one ever says no to Micah Romenov.

And yet I almost like this guy. He’s been a kind of friend to me, partly because he’s always been able to compartmentalize his brutality and has never used it against me.

And if he ever decides to withdraw his friendship . . . if his opinion of me ever becomes less favorable . . . well, I might not be around long enough to change my opinion of him.

“Do I have time to go upstairs and change?” I ask.

“Of course, of course.” Micah laughs. “I’ll be down here making some calls. I just thought we’d take some time to catch up is all.”

“Catch up about what?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible.

“Lots of things, Sweet. Life, family . . . and your new job. Oh, are you still okay with me calling you Sweet? Or do you prefer people call you Bellona these days?”

“Sweet is fine,” I say, pulling nervously on my fingers. “I’ll only be a minute.”

For the second time today I think of the little gun in my desk. Of course, if Micah ever turned on me, such a small piece of metal wouldn’t be enough to protect me.

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