Chapter 4
Rhylan
ELIMINATION.
Twenty-four hours.
That was how long I had to complete my test from the moment it was issued, and with every passing hour, I grew more anxious about beating the clock that was now working against me.
Execution with a gun would’ve been easier, effortless in fact. But I didn’t want to take the easy way out. I openly accepted the challenge and, in turn, wanted the same for my method of elimination.
Louiewas a graduation gift from my father—a hand-carved Louisville Slugger, crafted with the hope that his son would try out for the major leagues, as intended. I’d spent all of high school playing on the Junior and Varsity baseball teams; blood, sweat, and tears poured into hours of training and games with no time to spare for a social life.
He wasn’t too pleased with my choice in career after I’d turned twenty-one, but hey, now I can make him proud in a slightly different variation of his dream; utilizing Louie in a far more impressive manner.
While practicing my swing with fruit, watermelons specifically, I discovered that using a bat could go one of two ways. If the strike hits hard enough and doesn’t miss its intended mark—the center of the skull—the targetshould be dead in an instant.Lights fucking out.
But, if I felt the desire to draw out the pain and torture my target, I could intentionally…missthe sweet spot, or use less force in my swing, only to fracture and maim.
Then there’s the body overall; broken bones were agonizing, crippling—fun, as Trent would say.
Since no one was permitted to assist with the task of another Cowboy, Trent and Silas gave me a pep talk before I left the bar and drove to the address I’d been given.
The first thing that comes to mind when I hear the word felon isn’t someone who has a fuckton of money, sitting pretty in a countryside mansion. And because of my blind assumption, upon arrival, I discovered that I was criminally underdressed for the event my target was hosting. in dark loose-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt—a far fucking stretch from the suit and ties filtering through the grand entrance.
“Hey, you.”Fuck… me…A gravelly voice shouted from across the street, belonging to a man dressed as if he’d just finished working security detail for the president.Where the helldid he come from?
Clearing my throat, I managed to force out a weak-ass, ‘yes’, in response, all while wishing that I’d left my window rolled up and chosen a different place to park. Like a mile back from where I’d come…
“As service staff, you were instructed to use the delivery entrance to Laurent Manor, not the fucking front, which was made clear when your company was hired. Get your ass to where you belong before I have you fired from more than just this event.”
Holy fuckin’ shit.
This security guard may have been a complete fucking asshole, but he just gave me everything I needed. Pressing my lips together to hide the broad grin at his crucial error and my dumb-fucking-luck, I nodded before switching gears and immediately swinging my truck around and up the indicated driveway.
With one problem solved, I now had to figure out how to sneak Louie inside unnoticed. Perhaps I should’ve listened to Trent and borrowed that gun when I had the chance…
I parked in line with the rest of the cars just outside the rear entrance. After shutting off the engine, I reached over to open the glove box and pulled out a roll of silver duct tape. I’d made it this far; it was go hard or go home at this point.
Exiting the driver’s seat, I pulled Louie from the back and slipped him into the right side of my jeans, lining the bat up along my leg and securing the handle against my outer thigh.Not the brightest of ideas, but we’re rolling with it.
Confident the tape would hold, and already tearing at my leg hairs, I practiced taking casual steps alongside my truck beforerealizing that I’d have to walk with a ridiculous limp to keep my weapon hidden.
Rhylan… you’re a fucking idiot… You just had to turn murder into a spectacle… Couldn’t be a man’s man like Trent and Silas, ohh, fuck no… Had to go for the deranged version with a baseball bat instead…
It was too late to switch gears; I was already here, the clock ticking, and had no choice but to commit to my original plan. But if I succeeded tonight, I’d need to make sure that I always showed up to these assignments with a backup, in case running around with a giant piece of wood wasn’t fucking practical.
Theconceptofsneakinginside without raising suspicion proved to be more daunting in thought than reality, because once I’d entered through the kitchen door, every member of staff was so focused on their jobs, not a single one spared a second to acknowledge me or comment on my uniform—or lack thereof.
I pressed my back against the cold tile wall, pretending to be invisible while watching a hive of bees at work. Chefs were tirelessly preparing food with their heads down, hyper-focused on the delicate details, while an endless line of waiters carrying platters of hors d'oeuvres danced by like the cast of Swan Lake. Not a single fuck of awareness given to me.
The longer I stood there, the more I realized that I could’ve strode my ass in here with Louie resting over my shoulder, andno one would have batted an eye, too busy to spare even a single second.
With a casual shrug,and an awkward fucking limp, I quickly weaved my way through the steam-filled kitchen, heading straight toward the nearest exit, avoiding the employees that continued filtering in and out for service.
Once I’d made it through the two-way doors, a gentle hand gripped my shoulder from behind. My entire body went rigid.Oh shit...
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
