Maybe I’m being naïve, but I want to believe Timofey is better than this. That he could be.
“Why are you bringing me?” I ask, ignoring him. “What do they want from me?”
Timofey’s eyes drift over me. Then he backs away slowly. Finally, he turns to keep walking. I follow along behind him.
“They want you to confirm my story,” he says. “You are a major player in the damage control efforts. They want to hear your side of things.”
I guess that makes sense. It doesn’t mean I have to like it. “What is my story?”
“Exactly what I said earlier. Kreshnik was drunk on the flight, he assaulted you as we left the plane, and I defended your honor. I’m a hothead, but everyone knows that. It doesn’t mean Kreshnik didn’t deserve it.”
After what Timofey just did to me, I’m not exactly in the mood to lie
