But it was too late.
The dark and empty streetfloodedwith red and blue lights, and sirens blared from all directions.
Well,fuck.
It was coordinated, planned, and perfectly executed, and I was the biggest fool on the planet.
I pocketed my weapon and clasped the handlebars of my bike, scanning my surroundings in a mild panic.
Police cruisers pulled out of three driveways up ahead, and a few screeched to a stop right behind me. I was a fuckingidiot. Jade was out there giving her all to keep me out of prison, and here I was, voluntarily waltzing in there.
Wasting no time, I revved the bike, going zero to fifty within seconds. I jumped the curb and sped down the sidewalk, past the flashing lights, the officers running my way, and away from Alex’s dead body.
My blood pumped through me a mile a minute.There’s no fucking way I’m getting arrested tonight!
But just then, three cops filed onto the sidewalk, blocking my path. There’d be no way to hold on if they piled on me, so I swerved instead, flying back onto the road and across the small street, trying my luck on the other side.
There were shouts from all directions, but my vision was crystal clear and my mind worked in overdrive as I calculated every single escape path. Each one was blocked, a cop with their gun drawn standing at every single point of possible exit. Their loud shouts and threats permeated through my helmet, and I couldn't figure out how to get out of this fucking unexpected ambush!
Jade was out there giving her all to keep me out of prison.
Trapped like a mouse in a maze, cops ahead and behind, there was nowhere to go, unless I somehow vanished into thin air. Jesus fuck, I was not going down like this! Slightly out of breath, I hit the brakes right in the middle of the street, illuminated by the headlights of a half dozen police cars.
"Hands behind your back!"
My adrenaline was threatening to send me into cardiac arrest, but then—
I fucking remembered who I was.
Nobody had ever been able to catch me. For decades. And we sure as shit weren’t about to start now. Collecting myself, I meticulously scanned my surroundings and made a split-second decision, moments away from being jumped by a group of men in uniform.
My bike—a trusted companion—carried me with neck-breaking speed through a white picket fence right onto the lawn of a mansion, leaving the group of cops disoriented and chasing after me. Their bullets flew right past me, chaos breaking out full force.
They wanted me dead or alive.
Leaves and other vegetation whipped against my helmet, but I didn't dare slow down, pushing the engine faster, past the side of the house and right into the backyard.
But then, I paid dearly for my split second of inattention. I twisted my head back to assess the scene I’d just escaped, and that was a huge mistake. Something baby-blue shimmered right beneath me, and I was promptly submerged in the cool water of a backyard pool, tumbling in fully, bike and all.
What a fucking night.
32
A Man To Use
Jade
Our office building looked like a bunker. It was the poster child for that classic social-modernist Brutalism—tons of concrete and small windows. Ironic, considering America was the land of the free. How did we adopt the Eastern Bloc architecture style in Orlando, Florida?
The elevator whisked me to the third floor at half past eight in the morning, and I gulped down my existential dread. Being back was chipping away at me. I wanted to cry, scream, throw up, and run into a wall. I hated everything—the wall color, the smell, the sounds, the people, the way sunlight blasted into the tiny windows, and, most of all, I hated the man who I worked for.
I wasn’t the only one. I stepped out of the elevator and heard Cindy, one of the receptionists, whispering to her colleague, Ines. “He’s gonna scream at everyone, and I’m not sure I cantake it!” I paused behind a corner, buzzing with curiosity. “With their office burning down, and the death…” she paused and so did I.
The…death?
“Investigators are here today. Get ready for heads to roll.”
“Good morning, Cindy.” I stepped out into her line of vision, her face promptly turning tomato red. “Whose heads will roll? What burned down? Who died?” Cindy’s apologetic eyes widened, regretting her gossip. "You shouldn’t be discussing any details of any investigation, but…who are you talking about?”
