Page 82 of The Devil is a Dom


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I blubbered openly as I started toward the elevator. “Everything is destroyed. Just—just everything. They threw a damn chair into the TV!”

“Well, we have a perfectly good TV over here. We can watch something when you get home. Be careful driving, okay? I don’t want to have to come looking for you.”

I stepped into the elevator just as it opened, revealing more officers that had come to take stock of my place. I bid goodbye to Dad before I hung up the phone, then I tucked the almost-dead piece of technology back into my bra. I leaned heavily against the elevator wall, almost as if I couldn’t hold myself up any longer. The second I clamored into my car, I started out of the parking garage. I took a hard left onto the main road. I headed straight toward my parent’s place on the outskirts of town.

And as I looked in my rearview mirror at the red and blue lights flashing wildly outside of my apartment complex, something caught my eye.

No, not something.

Someone.

“It can’t be,” I whispered.

I saw a figure standing on the sidewalk toward the back corner of my complex. Standing there, staring in my direction, with his hands in his pockets and his outfit boasting of all-black.

Just like the man at the tarmac all the way back in The Maldives.

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