Page 96 of Off the Rails

My eyes flicked from my laptop up to the TV screen long enough to catch the gist of the recap — a fight between the public’s favorite couple, another dumping.

God, she deserves so much better than him.

But I wasn’t supposed to be watching Sweetheart Shores. I grumbled and adjusted my laptop, reticent to accept how invested I’d become in the stupid dating show.

Easier to think about their senseless drama than the shitshow playing out here.

Tracer had gotten back to me about Rubin’s background check: somehow, there was nothing of note. The twerp had gotten bounced around from foster home to foster home after Heirs of Promise shut down. He stayed active in the Church, but never in any official capacity. For work, he’d spent a year or two working some grunt level coding job.

And then? He disappeared for a bit before wandering back onto the streets of Valemont, spreading the Word.

I didn’t buy it though. There was no way he became the burgeoning leader of Valemont’s weirdest cult without any background of note.

I’d thought that maybe the coding thing could be an in — Violence had just taken on one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Maybe he had a tie to them?

But between all of Tracer and my digging, there were no obvious ties between them. He was kind of a nobody, as far as I could tell. Enough skill to make some decent money, but not a high level player.

Weird that he worked in tech though considering…

Now, his whole gimmick was that he hated the stuff — wouldn’t even touch the phones that his followers live streamed him from. Maybe that was the in. When had he decided to adopt the whole “old world” shtick?

I opened a flurry of new tabs, trying a different key word in each search bar. Anti-tech, Luddite, Pastor Harris: anything that might pull a thread for me to go off of.

Once, this obsessive energy had been reserved for the Ragdoll harboring in our guest room, waiting for the day she would finally stumble back into my grasp for her penance.

But it was hard to focus on revenge with Rubin buzzing around my head like an incessant gnat. How was he amassing so much power? And what the fuck did he want with Tess?

I’m not sure. But I’ll be damned if he steals my prize from between my teeth. I’ve waited too long to —

Rapping on the door ripped me from my thoughts. Blade: I could already tell from the obnoxious pattern of her knocking.

And the sudden turn of my doorknob only confirmed the hunch. She was the only person bold enough — or stupid enough — to wander into my room unannounced.

As the door swung open, I had a choice: cover my tracks on the computer, or turn off the TV and save my dignity.

Just as the laptop snapped shut, Blade sauntered into my room, eyes glued to the TV. “Ugh, I can’t. She deserves way better than that asshole.”

My lip curled as I looked back at her. “What do you want, Blade?”

“What? Worried I’ll spill to our little Trinket about your guilty pleasure?” She leaned against my doorframe with a tilted smirk. “Not a chance. Don’t want her thinking you’ve got a heart in there.”

“Are you just here to be a nuisance?”

“Depends how you look at it...” She peered down the hall for Tess before easing my door shut. “Got news about a shipment.”

“Ours?”

Blade shook her head. “Warehouse nearby. More fentanyl. And hallucinogens.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” My fist balled around the edge of the mattress.

“Hey, it’s not all bad news. We can pick up fresh meat for another hunt!”

“I don’t want to hunt. I want this shit gone from Valemont.” I stood from the bed, pacing the room. “Whose warehouse?”

“No one we know. Unregistered officially.”

“Fuck.” No matter how much we cleared out, the drugs kept cropping up. But from where? We’d decimated every known trade route.