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have. I shake my head.
    “Look, it doesn’t matter why he didn’t get the necklace before now. He sent me in to prove a point. I broke up with him, and now the point he’s making is that he calls the shots, not me.” I blow out a heavy breath and look at my feet.
    “So what were you supposed to do with the necklace after you got it?”
    Slowly, I lift my head and look him in the eyes. Should I be honest, or should I lie?
    “The deal was that we’d switch me and the necklace for Becca.”
    “And what exactly is he going to do with you once he gets you?” Chase’s eyes are imploring me to piece together a puzzle I’ve long since known the answer to. I gulp, feeling the rise of bile in my throat.
    “Keep me, kill me. Whatever he wants,” I whisper. Hearing the words aloud sends a shiver up my spine.
    “ Well, we better get going,” he says, changing the mood entirely.
    I stretch and stand from the bed. My clothes are still damp and sticking to my skin. I’d commit a multitude of sins for a shower right now. One thing I hate about New Orleans is the ever-present humidity. It’s insufferable. My drawstring backpack, which is now empty save for the cigar box, clings to the back of my jacket.
    Chase stands and puts his hands behind his back, taking the Glock into the waistband of his cargo shorts. He pushes the chair back and levels me with an icy glare. His eyes aren't focused on mine but on the purple diamond hanging from my neck. Instinctively, I take a step back placing my hand over the diamond. I know it’s coming, and though I can’t outrun him, part of me would like to try anyway. Unfortunately, he wants the diamond, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.
    "Hand it over, Shelby."
    I take a deep breath a nd force myself to give up my only leverage. Once I hand over the diamond, I have nothing left. Chase already has my gun, as well as the upper hand, and now he’s about to have the prize jewel as well. It’s not that I trust him. It’s just that I’m not so stupid that I think I can overpower him. Plus, for the time being, he appears to be on my side.
    “ What are you planning to do with it?”
    “ I’m going to wear it to fucking Mardi Gras.”
    I sigh and remove the heavy piece of jewelry from my neck. I flip it over my head, and with the chain of the diamond firmly in hand, I tentatively take a step forward and reach out toward Chase. He keeps his hands steady, never moving toward me as he waits.
    “ I’m trusting you. Please don’t screw me over.” Tears form in my eyes.
    Chase ’s eyes leave the necklace and dart up to mine. He seems to be looking for something. Something I don’t think he’s going to find, something he might never find. I just know that when I look into his eyes, I see something genuine. I never did see anything genuine about Victor. His eyes didn’t lie—I was just too goddamn stupid to see it.
    I drop the necklace into his hand. Instantly, he curls his large, long fingers around mine. I suck in a deep breath and let go. He pulls back, and I see a tiny sliver of purple peeking out between his fingers, a cool reminder of what I’ve just given up. I’m trusting in the stranger—something I told myself I would stop doing—and praying to any God that might exist that he’s worthy of my trust. Trusting in him when I shouldn’t could be the very thing that gets Becca killed. The thought is overwhelming.
    “ Here’s how it’s going to go—you walk in behind me, you don’t speak, keep your eyes straight ahead. Be aware of the people in the room. And do not, under any circumstances, leave my side. You got that?”
    His tone is so serious. It ’s like he’s directed wayward women in distress all his life. For a brief moment, I picture this Officer Chase Guilliot as a small child. Somehow, he has the same chiseled bone structure and the same dark eyes. But he’s younger, definitely a child. He stands in front of the elementary school, directing