War(29)

“What would you do if you found the person responsible?” he asked.

“I would kill him,” I said without pause. If conviction was the same as action, there was no doubt that I would cut down whoever had killed Tiffany without a second thought. But conviction was one thing, action another. I’d cross that bridge if and when I came to it.

Where Priest stood on the matter was not a question. “You wouldn’t,” he said without pause. “It’s not such an easy thing, Milan, not one to be taken lightly.”

“But you do. Kill and take it lightly,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. I accept it as a necessity, but I don’t take it lightly.”

I went silent, trying to absorb this conversation. This was so far outside of anything I had ever experienced or ever thought I would, I could barely process it. But the truth was, Tiffany was dead, and I was with a man who sounded resigned but not remotely bothered by killing.

And with him was exactly where I wanted to be. I wasn’t sure what that said about me, but I did know it was nothing good. I also knew I didn’t care.

“So why not send me away?” I asked.

“My resources are stretched. Right now, I don’t know who I can rely on. You’re with me until that changes,” he said.

“You’re responsible for the shooting?” I asked. That he might be hadn’t crossed my mind, but now I felt foolish for not having considered it sooner. He’d told me he was a criminal and seemed completely unapologetic about it. I’d assumed that him getting into my car was out of desperation, but maybe there was another explanation.

I watched him, saw how he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter before he loosened his hold. But even though his fingers were now loose, his grip not giving anything away, the tic was still jumping in his jaw.

“Someone is trying very hard to make it seem that way,” he finally said, his voice still silky, but now threaded with steel.

“You don’t know who?” I asked, searching his face for a reaction to my question. He didn’t give one, kept that same stoic expression, but what I knew of him, precious little though it was, told me that not knowing was an unfamiliar position for him, one he didn’t enjoy.

“I will. Assuming he doesn’t find me first,” he said.

That sentence sent a shock of fear through me even stronger than the one I had felt when he’d first jumped into my car, all at the thought of him in danger.

“The person you’re looking for, the one who’s looking for you, you think he had something to do with Tiffany’s death?”

I asked the words as a question, but I knew the answer. Still, I wanted Priest to confirm what I already knew.

He nodded. “There’s no other explanation.”

“And if I had been there, I’d be next to her. Like you said at the police station.”

“I don’t apologize often, Milan, but I’m sorry for that. What I said back there,” he said.

I shook my head. “Don’t apologize. That’s what I needed to hear. I needed to get the hell out of there and not die. You made that happen. But what’s your answer to my question?”

“Yes. He would have.”

I went quiet then, my mind buzzing with his words, buzzing with the realization of how very close to death I had been. How had I not thought of that? How, even now after Tiffany, did my own tenuous existence shock me? I realized then what Priest had been trying to tell me, what Tiffany’s death should have shown me. I was on precarious ground, caught up in something I didn’t yet understand, something that could wipe me from existence.

That was a terrifying feeling, one that made me feel vulnerable. Strangely, it also made me feel if not powerful, then aware. I may not be able to control what happened, but I wouldn’t be taken by surprise either. That was worth something.

“So this guy,” I finally said a moment later. “The one who would have killed me and who killed”—my voice broke over the word and I paused for a moment to swallow back the tears and then continued—“Tiffany. What are you going to do to him?”

“I’m going to kill him, Milan,” he said.

Two days ago, I would have been shocked, terrified, looking for any escape. But two days had been a lifetime ago, and now all I felt was joy. I’d never thought I’d be happy to contemplate someone else’s death, but whoever killed Tiffany deserved everything Priest would give him. I wouldn’t entertain a moment’s regret for being happy about that.

“And after?” I finally asked.

“After, you’ll go back to your life.”