Mark shuts my door, then follows Sweatpants around the back of the car. I take advantage of the moment alone to search for something to defend myself, rifling through his glove compartment for a gun. Apparently he hasn’t seen enough movies, because there’s not one in there.
An explosive pop scares the shit out of me and I jump, a small scream slipping out of me.
I twist to look behind me, but then I see Mark opening the door, a grim expression on his face. He slides into the driver’s seat, and I crane my head, looking for Sweatpants, but I don’t see him.
“What just happened?” I ask, confused.
“I just fucked myself,” he states, reaching into the center console, pulling out a false bottom, and retrieving a phone. “I need you to call Mateo.”
“No,” I say, frowning.
“You want him to come get you? I’m not going to hurt you. Tell him to come alone.”
“No,” I say again. If he wants Mateo alone, it’s because he wants to hurt him. “You’ve been lying to me all along. You work for the bad guys.”
Mark snorts, looking at me as if to see if I’m joking. “We both work for the bad guys, Mia.”
—
I refuse to call Mateo.
Mostly because I don’t want him to get hurt, and also because I don’t know his phone number.
Mark doesn’t know that last part, he just thinks I’m excessively stubborn.
We’re at a hotel now. A cheap little one floor hotel that makes me nervous. He goes outside and makes a call, presumably to Salvatore Castellanos, and when he comes back in, he sits on the bed and stares at me.
“Call Mateo.”
I shake my head again.
His head droops and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mia, I’m trying really hard to keep you alive. Like, really hard. But you’re starting to piss me off.”
“You don’t need Mateo. If all you want is to keep me alive, to hand me off to my side, you could give me to anyone. Vince, Adrian—even a nobody. It wouldn’t matter. If only Mateo will do, then I call bullshit. You’re lying to me, like you’ve been lying to me, and I won’t help you hurt him.”
“I need Mateo because I need to give him information. I can’t give it to Adrian because he’ll kill me, and Vince…” He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “I don’t trust Vince. I don’t want anybody else. I want Mateo.”
“He won’t come,” I tell him, shaking my head. “Even if I called, he wouldn’t come. He’s not an idiot. If it looks like a trap and smells like a trap…”
“But it’s not a trap. Look, I can leave you here in this hotel and let you find your own way, but that won’t solve this thing. They’re going to notice Arturo missing and it won’t be too hard to figure out what happened. I need to get the fuck out of here, and every minute I waste arguing with you is a minute I can’t afford.”
“Why?” I ask, scowling. “You were clearly on their side.”
“I’m not a baker, but I wasn’t a spy. I mean…” He looks off to the side, sighing. “I spied, sure, but I was there to protect Francesca. I didn’t technically have to come back after she disappeared, but… I wanted to keep you safe.”
That gives me pause. He seems sincere, but I’m still reeling from the knowledge that he’s duped me for the entire time I’ve known him. How do I know if I can trust anything he’s saying?
“Please, Mia. Just call him.”
I sigh, looking down at my hands in my lap. “I can’t. I don’t actually know his number, and I left my phone at the bakery.”
Mark just stares at me. “You’re kidding.”
I shake my head. “Not at all.”
“Well, can’t you get it? Call Vince.”
I scoff. He’s heard my girl talk; he has to know that isn’t happening.
“Meg?”
Okay, I could call Meg. Her number’s really easy to remember, so I actually do have that one stored in my brain.
“You promise you’re not going to hurt him?”
He shakes his head. “I’m on the anti-war side. I don’t want a Morelli beef.”
“Understand that if you’re lying to me, I’ll figure out how to work a gun and shoot you myself.”
He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Okay.”
“I’m not kidding,” I inform him.
Mark sighs. “I’m not going to shoot your stupid mob boss boyfriend.”
I give him another glare for good measure, then I finally take the phone and push in Meg’s phone number.
“Hello?” she answers, a bit uncertainly.
I wasn’t sure she’d answer at all, since it’s an unknown number. I eye up Mark again, searching his face for any signs of inappropriate emotions. Excitement, because I’m going along with his trick? I see nothing. He looks stressed, but in no way eager.
“It’s Mia,” I tell her.