Page 30 of Diamond in the Rough (The Diamond Trilogy 1)
“You can’t.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Elijah
I reach for the sandwich, grateful that it’s too dark for her to see my hand shaking. It’ll be my luck that I scarf it down too quickly. When your stomach gets used to being hungry, it rejects food. If I vomit in front of her, that’ll be the perfect end to this day.
“I hope they paid you well at least.” Her voice still sounds sharp, and I know she feels hurt. And suspicious, like maybe I planned this. The truth is I’m suspicious too. What the fuck is she doing back in France? I don’t believe in coincidences, but there’s no way Adam could know that I took her out one night years ago.
“Not much,” I say, because the US government pays shit.
“Then you should insist on a better cut this time.”
“Maybe I tried to get a better cut and that’s why the guys threw me down here.”
“You mean you tried to steal from them.”
“Dishonor among thieves.”
“There’s more to it, though. Why didn’t they just kill you? And why have they put me down here with you? It’s not just because it’s a convenient prison, is it? There’s a reason.”
She’s smart. Too fucking smart. “I think Adam wants us to get close.”
“I figured that when he asked us to kiss. Why?”
That makes me pause. I’m a cold bastard, but I don’t want to tell a woman she’ll be tortured. Because I showed weakness. This is what happens when I care about someone. They get hurt. “What happened when he found you?” I ask instead of answering.
“He saved me. And he told me he was an Interpol agent undercover. That he’d try to keep me safe if he could. So maybe he has backup nearby or something.”
Hell. I hadn’t expected Adam to come clean about that. “He’s an Interpol agent, all right. One who’s on the take. That’s his part in this job, to clear the way with the authorities.”
A pause. “You could be wrong though, right? He could have told you he’d help you, but in reality he’s planning to turn all of you in.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“What is going to happen, then?”
“He’s going to make us—do things. Until he feels like I’m invested enough in you as a human being. And then he’ll torture you. Because I have information that he wants.” I try to keep my words uneven, free of the anger and anguish they’re causing me. It will be much worse for her. It’s always worse for the woman.
She’s silent a long moment. This woman read about vicious mermaids and dragons committing war crimes. She wrote about a rebellious tooth fairy and a dying boy. She knows what kind of torture might happen here. And she knows how this ends.
Finally she says, “Are you sure about Adam?”
It’s a loaded question, but I don’t tell her that. “He’s not a good guy.”
A longer pause this time. “What are we going to do about it?”
I finish the last bite of the sandwich and toss away the paper. If I get hungry enough in a few days, I might need to eat that, too. Then again, I don’t think this will last that long. “What are we going to do about what?”
“Escape.”
“You think we’re going to escape?”
“Well, it’s either that or some sort of murder-suicide plan, but either way Adam’s not going to get the information he wants, is he? So let’s plan an escape.”
My breath catches at the impossible bravery of this woman. “I’d think you’d be begging me to tell him whatever he wants to know. The location of some diamonds, maybe.”
“You aren’t going to tell him.”
“No,” I say slowly. “I won’t tell him what he wants to know.”
Even if he tortured her in front of me. Even if it absolutely kills me to watch. The knowledge sits like acid inside me. It would feel so good to give it to someone else.
“Then we have to escape,” she says, her voice flat, devoid of surprise, as if she had no right to expect human decency from me. “As soon as possible.”
“I’m not saying no, sweetheart.” I shift on the cold concrete, feeling like an extreme bastard. “And normally I’m not one to complain, but I should point out that I have big bones unlikely to fit into small places. Even though about five of them are broken right now.”
“Then we’ll go out the door.”
“How do you propose we do that?”
“We’ll think of something cunning. You’re the thief. You should be good at that.”
God. Every time she calls me a thief, I want to kiss her. I want to pin her to the floor and fuck her, especially since I found out she’s Holly. “What’s with the name?”
“What?”
“Holland.”
There’s a weighted pause. “It’s just a name.”
“Is it your real name? Or your pen name?”
“It’s my real name.”
