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Hot Sauce

Page 98

by Tabatha Kiss

I glance behind her at the mirrored wall that’s not actually a mirror. I wonder if Anna’s behind it, watching and waiting for me to sign my life over. Either way, I walk out of this room and into a prison.

Can I really give it all up? The excitement and thrill of the scam? I don’t even remember what life looked like before I learned to lie and deceive to get everything I wanted.

“Mr. Murray?”

“No.”

“No?” she repeats.

“It’s Tyler,” I say. “My name is Jacob Tyler.”

Sally picks up the pen and clicks it. “Then, do we have a deal, Mr. Tyler?” she asks, holding it out to me.

I look over at her impatient face, wondering if she’ll leap over the table and stab me with that pen if I wait long enough.

The intercom clicks on by the wall.

“Just sign the damn thing, Jake,” Anna says into it.

I grin and take the pen. “Yes,” I say. “We have a deal.”

“Excellent.” Sally yanks the paper away as soon as I’m done and shoves it back into the folder. “Now, get out of here and don’t do anything stupid. You will be contacted soon, so it goes without saying, but don’t leave town.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“My pen, please?”

I drop it down in front of her and pull my hand back before she devours it whole.

The door opens. Anna emerges in the doorway with a cheerful smile on her face. “Thank you, Sally,” she says.

Sally shakes her head slowly. “The things I do for Silvas…”

Anna chuckles and pats Sally’s arm as she walks off into the hallway.

I stand up, feeling the weight of what I’ve done hit my shoulders, then promptly slide right back off.

“You okay?” Anna asks, looking at my wound with concern.

I exhale hard as butterflies take pain’s place. “Damn right, I am.”

Her smile returns.

I walk over and lean in to kiss her, but I stop an inch away. “Is PDA allowed here?” I ask. “I don’t want to get arrested again.”

She tilts her head and kisses me, anyway. “It’s worth the risk,” she says, our lips grazing.

“I mean… you say that…” I quip, “but they aren’t gonna arrest you.”

Anna takes my hand, still not caring, and we walk out into the hallway together.

“Let’s get you home,” she says.

“Is my apartment still a crime scene?” I ask. “I remember bleeding a lot on the floor…”

“Oh, maybe…” She shrugs. “Well, you can hang out at my house until we can get in there and clean it up.”

“Anna Silva, are you asking me to move in with you?” I tease.