Page 135 of Watched

“No,” Indie snips. “It’s one I bought when we went shopping with Rome.” Plopping down beside Mum, she crosses her legs and sips her tea, looking at Kilah. “I know what you’re thinking, and fuck you.”

“Indie,” Mum chastises, feigning a laugh.

“Shrek,” Kilah snickers.

“Bitch.” Indie smiles against her cup.

Kilah squeezes my hand then takes her cup. Resting her head on my shoulder, she turns her attention to the TV, some reality show playing. I’d never enjoyed these shows, but it’s comforting to hear the girls laugh, always has been.

Mum and I have slowly begun repairing our relationship the past week. It’s taking time, but we’re getting to a better place. She spent the morning spilling all my childhood memories to Rain—some I’d rather she didn’t—and he listened intently, wanting every detail.

I found out Rain’s middle name is Asher, after his uncle who had the same eidetic memory, one who originally taught Rain about computers and cybersecurity.

Rain called my coach and said I had food poisoning so I wouldn’t be able to attend training tonight. We then spent the rest of the day in bed together, fucking, talking, and basking in one another. When he left, I have no shame in admitting that I sat in the shower with tears streaming down my face, clutching his silver chain that hangs around my neck. His last words to me were a profession of his love, and then, ‘I’ll see you soon’.

“Rome,” Kilah calls. I flick my eyes away from the fire. “What’s wrong?”

A tear drips from my chin as I set down my cup and walk out of the room, yelling over my shoulder, “Stay here.”

Her footsteps follow behind. “Where are you going?” My heart hammers as I slide on my tennis shoes and corduroy jacket and then snatch my keys and open the front door. She grips the door, panicked eyes searching mine. “What’s going on?”

“Stay. Here.”

Chapter fifty-five

RAIN

“I’m counting at least four,” Blade says, peering out the broken window.

“Rain!” Smith’s voice booms from outside. “I want my fucking money!”

Blade’s gaze slides to me. “The fuck is he talking about?”

I adjust my position, peering out the small window of the front door, noting the top of a head hiding just beyond the porch. “I may have stolen a few….hundred thousand from him from the time I learnt what he was doing until we moved to London.”

“And you call me an idiot.”

I lift a shoulder and shrug. “I made it look like it was his paedophile buddies stealing from him. You know, pit them against one another.” I wave a hand to a now-dead Graham. “If there’s one thing we’ve learnt, it’s that you can’t trust corrupt organisations, and I gave all the money away to charities.”

I lock eyes with Blade and motion to the door, holding out a finger. He takes his position beside the door. Sweat trickles down my neck as I climb the stairs and plaster myself around the corner at the top.

Balde's breaths stay even as he swings the door open. Bullets pound the staircase as I raise my rifle, the thud of my heart and approaching footsteps eating the sudden silence.

A brown boot inches into view on the other side of the door. I line up my scope with their foot and take a deep breath, curling my finger around the trigger. Their foot inches further out, and the shot jolts through my body. A scream follows, their body falling a little further forward. Blade raises his rifle, and blood splatters the front door as their body falls through the threshold.

“Fucker,” Blade smiles.

“What do you want, Ezra?” I call out. “Cash, check, wire transfer? We both know you’ll spend your life running.”

A manic laugh booms beyond the door. “You made Weston & Myer quite secure, Rain. I’d always tried to get in there but never could. My sister almost had our $500 million, but your prick of a father did what he does best and bought out our colleague.”

My eyes clash with Blade’s. “Why not have me killed? Kidnap me again?” I shout. “You had many opportunities.”

I’d dug into his background when I found out what he was doing, but for someone like Smith, it’s easy to erase who you were and start again.

“Your school laptop was useless,” Smith laughs. “Everything you used to hack was at home, wasn’t it?”

“You didn’t want me,” I conclude with a smile. “You wanted my father to suffer. He killed your brother and your sister. I saw her body when my father was carrying me out of that warehouse.”