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Los Angeles.
What a fucking dump.
I promised myself I’d never travel this far west again unless out of absolute necessity, but I guess having two assassins on my trail qualifies.
Elijah and Lilah Hart. I spent my flight over here reading up on them. Apparently, they aren’t the only members of the Hart family in Snake Eyes. The other being their big brother, Dante, and I definitely hope he’s not traveling around with them right now. If I have any luck left in the world — and that is one big if — he’s hiding out in their childhood home on Geneva Lake.
That’s right, assholes, not quite as hidden as you thought.
Let’s just say I did the right thing running away with my damn tail between my legs. This family isn’t one I want to fuck with. I get the feeling my research only scratches the surface of that iceberg. There’s only one person I know who can confirm my suspicion and he’s living happily ever after in the Hollywood Hills with his movie star girlfriend-slash-stepsister.
I dial his number from a coffee shop down the street from their new house, taking advantage of the shop’s free wi-fi signal to bounce the call through various towers and encrypt my location. Sure, the Hart twins found me in Boston, but I won’t make it so easy for them to track down my location in Los Angeles.
“Hello?”
“Fox! Old buddy, old pal! How are you?”
I speak a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the damn hipsters and wannabe novelists sitting around me so I lower my voice. Adrenaline tends to mess with my ability to maintain calmness and my pulse is thumping like a damn drumline right now.
“Boxcar?”
“Yeah, man. Hey, listen… I’m in Los Angeles. Come have a drink with me.”
There’s a long moment of silence before Fox finally sighs.
“What did you do?” he asks.
I snort in defense. “What did I do? What do you mean what did I do?”
“Fox, who is it?”
“Go back to sleep, Dani,” he whispers.
I hear the ruffling of bedsheets as he stands up.
“You still asleep, man?” I ask. “It’s noon.”
“No, it’s five in the morning, actually,” he says.
“What?” I glance at my laptop’s clock, trying to count the difference in hours, but I give up quickly. “Where are you?”
A door slides closed. He answers at normal volume. “Tokyo.”
“Tokyo?!” I spit, once again drawing side-eyes from people around my table. “Why the hell are you in Japan?”
Fox yawns. “Dani’s on her contractually-obligated press tour for Night Trials.”
“Oh, yeah. That movie you had a perfectly good screener for but refused to send me.”
“You’ll see it with the rest of the world next month, Box.”
“Dick.”
“Why are you in Los Angeles?”
I chew on my inner cheek. I really hoped to talk to him in person about this. There’s not much he can do from the other side of the Pacific Ocean and there’s no way he’ll make it here before the Hart twins do. Still, I can’t not tell him there are former Snake Eyes agents out there looking for him.
