Aria
I’m thankful Stasevich is ahead of me, it gives me a very brief moment to wipe my palms on the sides of my thick black dress jacket over my churning stomach.
In through your nose, out through your mouth.
The chilled air doesn’t disguise the sick smell of rot and garbage hidden somewhere in the building, clogging my nose and dry throat. I need a drink, hopefully, a f*****g celebratory victory drink with the whole team.
Right now, I’d take a few rusty drops of water down my dry sticky throat.
Levi’s at my back, shielding me from the eyes of the two men behind him, well the other three stand in front with Stasevich at the lead. I have a few seconds to let my bravado drop, so the reality can sink in.
I threatened Stasevich
