Thorn
Walking into the prison gave me the chills, even though I was on the visitation side of the glass, and even though I wasn't carrying the packages with me that day. Romeo raised an eyebrow at me when he saw me there. I recognized him from photos with Katia, and he clearly recognized me as well, probably from something in his own mission briefing.
I didn't stop to talk to him; I did my best not to let on that I even recognized him. I didn't bring any of the packages for a reason, but I didn't need to stand there discussing that fact with him where anyone could overhear us.
Instead, I sat on one of the chairs and waited for Katia to be brought out.
Even in prison, Katia looked good. She had always been an attractive woman, with her aristocratic features and long, dark hair. She didn't seem surprised to see me, and I wondered if that meant Gabi had already spoken to her about my refusal to uphold my end of the bargain.
I glanced around as I picked up the receiver. The visitation room was mostly empty, meaning there weren't many people who might overhear us. Except that that also meant it was pretty quiet in there and anything I said, I could expect to be overheard by the guards. I would need to be careful about what I said and make it seem like this was just a routine visit from one friend to another.
“How are you doing?” I asked, in the spirit of keeping things friendly.
Katia rolled her eyes. “How do you think I'm doing, here in this federal prison?” she asked. But her eyes glinted a little with amusement, and I could tell she appreciated the attempt at small-talk. “I've been waiting for someone to come visit me,” she said. “Other people have family members who bring them sweets and razors and all sorts of other things that we have a hard time getting here. But I don't have any family members to bring me those things.”
I paused, wondering how to spin off from that into what I wanted to talk about. I was thankful that she had at least given me that much of an opening. “I'm not sure I would be able to deliver packages for you,” I said slowly. “It seems like that would be a little risky.”
Her brows drew together, but she didn't seem surprised to hear that. “As long as you didn't do anything suspicious, it shouldn't be a problem,” she said.
Fortunately, the room was beginning to fill up with other people visiting their loved ones, and the chance that we would be overheard was becoming less and less likely. I leaned in close, talking lowly into the receiver. “Look, Katia, I just don't think this is such a good idea,” I told her. “There has to be a better way.”
Katia shrugged a little, but she didn't seem too concerned by what I was saying. “I think this is the best way,” she said. “Unless you don't think that you can be a part of this.”
“I don't,” I admitted. “The thing is, I thought I was just delivering the packages to...” I trailed off, having enough sense, at least, not to say Gabi's name. “I just didn't think it was going to go this far,” I finished.
Katia pursed her lips, looking through the glass at me. But she didn't seem upset. “All right,” she finally said. “Maybe we need to figure out a different way. I'll talk with my connections and see what we can come up with.” She narrowed her eyes, though. “But don't think that I'm going to forget about this, Thorn Riley.”
I swallowed hard, even though I had known that something like that was coming, that there must be some sort of a catch. She'd figure out another way, but there was no telling what she might do to me. She didn't seem overly disappointed, but there were sure to be some sort of repercussions.
“Thank you,” I said, though. There wasn't really anything else that I could say. But in the spirit of not looking suspicious, I decided to keep talking. “So tell me about...” I trailed off, giving her a sheepish look. Small talk had never been my strong suit, and I couldn't lie and say she didn't intimidate me a little.
Katia laughed a little, tossing her hair back. “You want to know about life in prison?” she asked. “I'm sure we can arrange to have you locked up as well.” Her eyes glinted, and I wondered what I had just done. Before I could say anything — and what was I going to say? — she hung up her receiver, stood up, and walked proudly out of the visitation room, without looking back.
I swallowed thickly again and stood up as well, turning to head for the door. My mind was whirling, going through all the possibilities of what she could do to me, of what sort of information she had on me that she could use to get to me.
But there was no way to know for sure what she would do to me. I wouldn't know until it happened.