Page 6 of Claimed in the Dark

I was letting my imagination get the better of me.

It was just a long, lumpy, bulky, oval-like bag that two men carried after getting it out of a trunk.

“But it wasn’t… a body…” I whispered, jogging into the building to clock in.

Because if it was…

I swallowed hard, forcing the action past the lump of emotions stuck in my throat.

Because if it was a body that I saw being moved, that meant criminal activity. Something I couldn’t allow in my life. Being connected to anything like that would mean a threat on my life, on my son’s.

Maybe I should leave.

It wasn’t like I’d ever make much here.

I’d never get welcomed and respected with chances to be promoted.

And I⁠—

“Late again?” Owen rounded the corner before I could get to my cubicle.

I tensed, trying to smile. “I’m sorry, Owen. I had an issue with my sitter and it won’t happen again.” Hoping that he would walk away and bother someone else, I busied myself with putting my purse on my desk and getting ready for my shift.

“Oh, like I haven’t heard you say that before.” He scoffed, eyeing me like I was a waste of his time. “You seem to think so highly of yourself that you can waltz in and out of here as you please.”

“Hey, Owen.” Another coworker came in—even later than me. “What’s up, dawg? I got behind with my game.”

Owen grinned. “Did you unlock that level at the end of the maze?”

“No!” The other guy laughed. “But I’m going to try again.”

Oh, so he’s off the hook being late because he’s gaming? I rolled my eyes as I sat.

Instead of my fleeting hope that Owen would keep on chatting with the other tardy guy, he pivoted to narrow his beady eyes at me. His pathetically thin moustache moved with the force of his scowl.

“You seem to think you’ve got the right to come late as often as you want, but you should remember that you could be replaced just… like… that.” He snapped his fingers in my face with every emphasized pause, and I flinched. “In a heartbeat.” Leaning back to loom over me as I sat in my crappy, cracked chair, he smirked. “Get to work,” he growled. “And just know that I’m watching you…”

His taunting words didn’t intimidate me. They couldn’t. I’d continue to show up and give this lousy job my all because I needed the money to provide for my son.

But the concept of being watched was something that bothered me.

No one is following you.

You’re letting your imagination get the best of you.

You’re tired and stressed and you think you’re seeing things that aren’t there.

Like that video. Maybe I never even actually had a copy made at all. Sleep deprivation and stress were wreaking havoc on me lately. With a deep sigh of resignation, I rolled my chair closer to the desk and surrendered to the expectation to work all night long.

3

NIKOLAI

After a long and mostly unproductive night of finding the target I was supposed to kill from Pickering Inc., I came downstairs to find my housekeeper, Paloma, putting away dishes the next morning.

The seventy-five-year-old spitfire twisted to face me, her wrinkled face lining even more with her dubious once-over. “You were out late.” She sniffed and furrowed her brow more. “But not partying?”

I ran my hand through my hair, idly wondering again whether I should stick with this mohawk or try something more “traditional”. Giving her the stink eye, I bit back a smile. “I was most definitely not partying.”