Page 86 of The Hero
“I had you pegged for a Goody Two-shoes. Weak,” he said. Then he smiled slightly, the look so sinister, her gut clenched. “I mean, look how easy it was to plant those drugs in your tent that night. It was bad luck that you caught me with the coins, especially since that dig was one of the easiest ones to steal from yet. You were a complication that I thought I’d already dealt with.”
“And yet, here I am,” Marlowe said darkly, her heart beating so fast she felt almost light headed. He’d admitted to planting the drugs and stealing the coins! Actuallyadmittedit!
“Here you are,” he agreed.
“So you’ve done this before? Stolen artifacts from other digs?” she asked, knowing this was also important info.
“Of course. It’s not hard. People pay top dollar for arrowheads and shards of pottery and other stupid shit they think means something.”
Marlowe frowned. “Then why are you living with your parents?”
Ian chuckled mirthlessly. “Subterfuge. It wouldn’t be smart for someone as young as I am to flaunt my wealth. And believe me, Iamrich. I’ve got money socked away in several foreign banks, and when the time is right, I’m going to move somewhere with lots of sun and easy women, and live happily ever after.”
Marlowe’s blood ran cold. She’d had no idea this baby-faced moron was a hardened criminal. She suddenly felt way out of her league and wanted to go back to the park, now. “Great. Woo-hoo, you’re rich. But you still owe me, Ian. You had me thrown in a damn foreign prison. I want my share. Give me the coin and you can go on your way. I’ll go mine, and we’ll call it even.”
Ian laughed again, and Marlowe’s skin crawled at the sinister sound. He’d kept the gun in his hand throughout the drive, and now he placed it on the dashboard, then leaned to his left and reached into his pants pocket. He fumbled a bit, then drew his hand out.
“You mean these coins?” he asked.
And there, sitting on his palm, were three innocent-looking coins. They each had a hole in the middle and seemed completely ordinary. But Marlowe knew she was looking at something worth millions.
Irrationally, she had the urge to scold him like a child, tell him he shouldn’t be handling ancient coins with his bare hands, that the oils from his skin could literally disintegrate the metal of the precious artifacts. But she managed to swallow the words.
She reached for his hand, wanting to get this over with, but he fisted the coins and said, “Ah ah ah, not so fast.”
“What now?” Marlowe seethed, trying to sound annoyed instead of completely freaked out.
“How do I really know you aren’t going to turn me in the second you have one of these coins in your hand?”
She huffed impatiently. “How many damn times do I have to spell it out for you? If you go down,Igo down. I can’t explain it any simpler! I’m done going on digs. I’m sick of it. Sick of not speaking the languages, sick of the dirt, sick of not getting the money I deserve for the work I do. I want to settle down right here in Nowhere, Maine. Live off the money from the sale of that coin. I deserve it. After everything you put me through, after all the work I’ve done for other countries to save their heritage, I’mowedthis!”
He stared at her for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah, you probably are,” he agreed.
Just when Marlowe felt as if this was going to be over soon, he lunged.
“What are you—!”
That was all she got out before her words were cut off by the hand closing around her throat.
Immediately, her own hands flew to his fingers, trying to pry them off her neck. But it was no use. Ian was taller, meaner, and stronger than she was.
Before she could blink, he’d hauled her up and over the front seat to the back.
He slammed her onto the back seat and brought his other hand up to join the first, wrapping it around her throat.
“Fucking whore!No oneblackmails me!” he gritted out as he tightened his hold. “I’m not giving you a damn penny. You should’ve stayed where you were, locked away in that shithole prison. You’re a pain in my ass, and there’s no way you’re getting a fucking cent! I was gonna shoot you in the head, but that would be too easy. I want you to look me in the goddamn eye while I watch the light go out in yours!”
Marlowe wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting oxygen. She raked her fingernails down his face, but he growled and simply held on tighter. She kicked, tried to use her knees to throw him off her, dug her nails into the skin of his hands.
And he still didn’t loosen his hold even a fraction.
“Die, already! Just fuckingdie!” he shouted as he leaned forward, putting more weight on her neck.
Blackness began to creep in behind Marlowe’s eyelids—and she had a moment of such sorrow, it felt as if she was having a heart attack. Everything she wanted to do, she’d no longer get the chance. Her life with Kendric. Watching her nephew and niece grow up. Celebrating the births of her new friends’ babies, having her own ...
Everything was being taken away from her because she thought she was some sort of badass undercover spy.
Her last thought before blackness overwhelmed her was of Kendric. How he’d probably blame himself for not protecting her. Even though it was Marlowe who’d been stupid enough to get into Ian’s car.
