worried about. I knew she was waiting for me to say something.
I sniffled and wiped my nose on my hoodie sleeve. A disgusting smear of snot shone on the cuff when I took my hand away. I didn't give a fuck.
"Well," I said at last. "That sucked."
Felicia sighed and shook her head. "Which part? The kidnapping or the international interrogation?"
I didn't even have the energy to shoot her a glare. "There was no kidnapping," I said wearily. "I wanted to be on that boat. You think anyone could make me do something I didn't want to?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, Sadie. Knowing you... no. But everyone has a breaking point. I thought... I thought, what if he really was crazy? What if he pulled a... a weapon on you?"
A knife. The words hovered above us. He could have pulled a gun, yeah. But that was never what I feared the most. Felicia knew my past. She knew me before all my scars had been hidden. Tattoos cost a lot of money. She'd helped me pay for some of them.
“No weapons,” I said with a sigh. None except emotion. “But it was... intense.”
She regarded me for a moment. “Yes, I see that. So... you went on his boat, without telling anyone, and sailed around aimlessly in international waters for shits and giggles.”
I was so tired I could hardly think straight. “No, it was to get away from the police.”
Her intake of breath was so sharp it hurt my ears. “So... you knew about the embezzlement and fraud when you agreed to get on his boat with him?”
I started to feel like I was being interrogated all the more. “Yes,” I snapped. “I mean... no. It's not like that. Malcolm's being framed. He's not embezzling his company, and he's not committing fraud, and he definitely didn't kidnap me."
For a moment I thought she was going to shut me down completely, but then she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I believe you," she said. "At least, I believe you believe him."
I made a frustrated noise. "It's his personal assistant. Or secretary. Or whatever. That guy is the one defrauding the company. Don Cardell. Malcolm said he had proof."
“I see. If he had proof, why doesn't he just hand it over?"
"Because!" I said, annoyed. "He doesn't want to betray Don. Supposedly he's like a brother to him. He was just planning on getting caught by the feds and then killing himself instead of turning Don over. Don's the one who's framing him."
It had made sense when Malcolm had explained it to me. Perfect sense. But as I watched Felicia's face, I realized that it was just as crazy as I had first thought.
Was Malcolm crazy? Really crazy? Paranoid, or... or bipolar or sociopathic or something? He had to have been telling me the truth... right? He had no reason to lie.
Had he really been betrayed... or was Don the one telling the truth, exposing his corrupt boss to the world in the name of justice? And if they were like brothers why was Don only Malcolm's secretary?
I was so tired. I'd believed Malcolm when we were together... why was doubt creeping in now?
My doubts were reflected in Felicia's frowning. "Sadie... Why would anyone remain loyal to someone who's framing them?"
I pitched forward and buried my hands in my hair. "I don't know. Because he's almost as damaged as you?"
That was a low blow. Felicia had her problems, and they all involved remaining loyal even when there was no reason to be so. I didn't look at her.
When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "Do you really think he has proof?"
"He told me he did."
"Did he tell you where he put it or hid it or kept it?"
I sighed and shook my head. "No. Up until we were boarded I was pretty sure he was just going to off himself and it wouldn't have mattered after that.” I looked out the window, wishing I wasn't listening to myself say these things. I sounded like a naïve sap who had fallen for a con man.
Then I remembered. The vase. He'd told me I could have the vase I had broken. But that didn't make any sense either. Why would he give that to me?
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