What did she expect?
Penny handed her the story of a lifetime with the possibility of more should things go a certain way. Beyond that, she’d explained—or tried—the darker truth surrounding the situation and how it could be potentially dangerous to publish it.
“You didn’t ask,” Penny replied simply. “But yes, I knew it was a possibility that ... someone ... might track you after publication just to see if they could connect you to me in some real way. It’s nothing personal, just business. They want to find me. You could be a means of doing that which is why I just told you to get out of town. Everyone has sacrifices to make to get a job done, Jocelyn. Even you.”
Even if the journalist was the sacrifice Penny made.
So be it.
Sometimes, it had to be done.
Penny stood from the table, having said what she needed to, as Jocelyn asked her, “But ... what am I supposed to do now?”
Over her shoulder, as she walked away, she said to the woman, “I told you—run.”
THE WIND WAS WORSE next to the river. Yet, Penny didn’t move as she waited for the call to be picked up. With the phone pressed to her ear, she watched the movement on the Hudson from the safety of the shadows she had found.
Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait for long.
“Marcel speaking—”
“Do you remember that time I overlooked your side business with that friend from Canada, so it wouldn’t get back to Dare when we were doing that job last year?” Penny asked the hacker as soon as he picked up her call. Considering he wasn’t supposed to do any side business at all outside of The League for reasons related to the entire reason for him becoming a member ... she knew that was the best place to open their conversation.
“Penny.”
“One and only.”
Marcel paused just long enough to mutter, “I do remember that time, yes. One favor. That’s all you get, though.”
“Fair enough. It’s all I really need.”
And if Marcel was willing to do it, then that’s all Penny cared about. He would be putting a lot on the line to help her in any way—even if he didn’t realize he would be helping her against their own people—and The League wouldn’t take kindly to that. If they found out, of course.
Computer keys clicked fast in the background. Penny wasn’t stupid—she knew what the man was doing. Or, she was pretty sure.
“Are you trying to trace me?” she asked.
“Trying,” he admits. “Kind of part of my job right now. No offense.”
“Of course, but I’m using a burner, and it’ll be at the bottom of the Hudson when this conversation is over. Just in case anyone might like to retrieve it, you know.”
Marcel cleared his throat, saying, “Thanks for that. Makes one thing easier.”
“No problem.”
She knew how this game was played. Penny had been on the other side of it for a long time. Now that she was the one they were trying to find, she knew all the tricks to stay just beyond reach. As long as she didn’t fuck up. Easier said than done, honestly. One wrong step could ruin a lot for her here.
“You know the Hudson really nails you down to—”
“They know where I am. But I am one in millions. Good luck.”
“Right,” Marcel said in a dark laugh. “The favor? Which I really shouldn’t be doing for you, by the way. Every active member in The League is on your file right now, Penny.”
“Fascinating. I want a bounty put out with no name attached for who listed it. A million for a successful kill.”
“A bounty on who?”
For a moment, Penny hesitated.
Not for long, though.
“On me,” she said. “Last known location—the state of New York.”
Marcel’s clicking on the other end of the call came to an abrupt stop. The silence raged through the telephone, and she understood why. No sane assassin put a bounty out on themselves. It was practically suicide. In fact, that was usually the only reason an assassin would do such a thing in the first place. Because there was no other choice.
Well ... there was another reason.
Penny found one.
It was still suicide.
“It’s going to be a lot harder for the right people to find me when everyone is looking for me,” she said quietly.
Marcel let out a slow, steady breath before replying, “That’s also dangerous.”
Yep.
“And a risk I am willing to take.”
It was going to make The League and The Elite’s job a lot harder to find her when they also had possibly hundreds of rogue assassins flooding New York to deal with at the same time. With everyone and anyone coming out of the woodwork to claim a million-dollar bounty on the white ghost, well ... that was an opportunity too good to pass up, she knew. A kill like her on someone’s list would make them gold in their world.
No one would say no.
But she had to stay alive, too.
Win some, lose some.
Story of her life.
“I can do that—list the bounty, I mean. And make the payment through your offshore accounts when it’s been claimed, too.” Marcel’s clicking had started up again, adding, “Nothing will be tracked back to you or me as well.”
“Expected nothing else. And—”
“One favor, Penny. That’s all you get.”
She almost smiled.
“Except this is a personal request. Something of mine that I want to be returned. So to speak ...”
“I’m not following,” he returned.
“I want the files unsealed and dumped.”
A pause answered her back. Then, the hacker asked, “What files?”
“You know what files.”
Every single image and video of her as a child—each scrap of evidence that proved her sexual abuse and trafficking by her parents. Everything that The League spent years finding and hiding at her behest. It served two purposes—one to help her heal while also erasing her very existence. Or a part of it, anyway.
“I want it to be clear,” Penny said, “that girl and the white ghost are one in the same.”
“Penny, I can’t willingly release child po—”
“They are my files. They are my images and videos. Of me. Only me.”
“Penny—”
“It’s my choice, Marcel. Unseal and dump them.”
“But ... why?” the hacker asked.
Well, that wasn’t an easy answer. And not one she planned to give to the man on the other end of the call. It wasn’t like she wanted people to see those images and videos. She didn’t want to give other predators more fodder for their dark and illegal desires. But she also had no other choice.
Penny had to throw as many wrenches into the plans of others as she could—including releasing any and all information about herself that she could afford to without putting her safety at risk. Especially if it hurt her mother and any plans Allegra might have.
Like her marriage. This would certainly make that hard to see through. At least, on Senator Gilles Tracey’s side of things. The woman might be able to scare one reporter away, but she seriously doubted Allegra would be able to do the same when Penny’s files were dumped and available for public consumption. Not to mention, when those files made their way to the offices of reporters and journalists all over the state.