I twisted my skin until the flesh turned a bright, angry red.

“I will tell them you grabbed me,” I said. “I will tell them you threw me against the kitchen counter because I wouldn’t sign the papers.”

Carl stared at my wrist, his eyes wide.

He looked at me as if I had suddenly grown claws.

“You are sick,” he whispered.

“I am securing my future,” I said. “There is a big difference.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and unlocked the screen.

I tapped the keypad, letting the three numbers sit on the screen.

“If I press this green button, they will be here in five minutes,” I said. “And you know how they treat domestic calls in Brooklyn. You will spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Arthur is right outside,” Carl said, his voice trembling. “He is my lawyer. He knows I am here.”

“Arthur Vance cannot see through solid wood,” I said. “By the time they break this door down, I will be crying on the floor.”

I stepped closer to him, the heels of my boots clicking on the linoleum.