AllFreeNovel
Share Us
FOURTEEN
Decima
The polyester housekeepinguniform itched at my arms. I resisted the urge to scratch them as I wiped down the benches at the edge of the hotel lobby. The desk clerk had even made a comment to me about how the one near the door needed a lot of work, so I knew that at least she didn’t recognize me as an imposter. The position also made it easy to keep my face at an angle where it’d never be caught on the security cameras.
I didn’t normally like to do a lot of playacting for a mission. I’d rather have slunk in unseen, relying on stealth and strength rather than pretense. But Garrison had pointed out to me that while he was here, he might as well help pave the way to completing Anthea Noble’s job. My pride had wanted me to say no, but practicality had won out.
Better to do everything possible to ensure the operation went off without a hitch than to insist on doing it totally solo.
Right on cue, Garrison sauntered into the lobby as if he were meant to be there, wearing a dark leather jacket, sunglasses, and a chip on his shoulder larger than the massive hotel. He strode through the lobby and stopped before the farthest elevator—the one labeled PRIVATE. The two guards stationed there stopped him in his tracks.
“This car goes to the penthouse only,” one said, placing a hand on Garrison’s chest and nudging him a step backward. “There’s nothing you need here.”
Garrison’s dramatic gasp echoed through the lobby. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, and I held back from chuckling at the clear change from the voice I was used to. He spoke with a high-pitched, whiny tone that would have had Blaze in hysterics.
“Doesn’t matter. Mr. Fitzgerald doesn’t have any appointments.”
Garrison removed the sunglasses he’d been wearing and placed them atop his head. “He does with me, but what would you know about his schedule? You’re just the help.”
He made as if to waltz past the men, and one of the guards pushed him backward more forcefully. “I can double check if you’re going to make a fuss about it,” he grumbled. “But he doesn’t like being interrupted unnecessarily.”
“Oh, this is absolutely necessary,” Garrison insisted.
The guard whipped a phone out of his pocket, but before he could dial, Garrison snatched it out of his hands. “I think I’d better do the talking,” he said, and dashed for the front doors.
I was already ambling across the lobby with my head low, as if I hadn’t noticed the altercation. Garrison ran past me, and the guard hurtled after him. I placed myself in just the right spot that he couldn’t help bumping into me at the speed he was going.
“Watch where you’re going,” he spat at me, staggering, but his attention was still mostly on Garrison. I scrambled out of the way, and the guard hurtled out of the building after the phone thief.
The desk clerk stared at all that wide-eyed. “Should I call the police?” she asked the remaining guard.
He shook his head, looking bored. “Heath can take care of it.”
That’s what he thought. I meandered on in the general direction of the private elevator, tucking the keycard I’d picked from the first guard’s pocket into a pouch sewn on the inside of my sleeve.
It was only a few more seconds before Garrison dashed back in—alone. Somehow he’d made his face go pale as if in a panic. “He’s having some kind of fit,” he said to the remaining guard. “I don’t know—I didn’t mean to get him so worked up. Does he have epilepsy or something?”
“What the fuck?” The second guard barged toward the doorway to find out what was going on.
I had no idea how the rest of Garrison’s scheme would play out, only that he knew what he was doing. It was time for me to take care of my part.
The instant the second guard had barreled past the lobby doors, I darted to the elevator and swiped my sleeve past the scanner pad. The key card activated through the fabric, and the doors slid open. I slipped into the car and jabbed the button to close the doors before anyone could return and try to stop me.
The elevator car vibrated around me as it ascended. I kept my body turned away from the security camera, my head still tipped down. If anyone checked the footage later, they’d see nothing more of the murderer than the maid uniform and the brown wig I’d pulled over my hair.
Mr. Fitzgerald, the owner of this hotel, lived in the penthouse suite, and he had around-the-clock guards at every potential entrance for his safety. According to Anthea, there were none inside the room because he preferred a certain level of privacy. Naturally that also meant that once I got inside, I didn’t need to worry about cameras.
He was careful, sure, but I’d dealt with far more difficult targets.
As I neared the top floor, adrenaline began to course through my veins. How long had it been since I’d been out on an assignment, preparing to take down a target as only I knew how? The danger around me and the certainty that I could see this kill through exhilarated me in a way nothing else—not even chocolate—could. I’d forgotten what that feeling was like after the way my discoveries about the household had soured my memories of the work I’d done for them.
The thrill was momentarily dampened by a jab of guilt. Maybe those memories should have been soured. The people I’d killed… For a second, I pictured my father’s face if he knew, taut with disapproving horror.
But this mission wasn’t about Damien Malik or my birth family. This was about eliminating a man who absolutely deserved it. And there was no one better to fulfill that duty than me.
The elevator opened into a small foyer that led to the main penthouse. Another guard was stationed there.
The instant the doors parted, I sprang into motion. There wasn’t a second to waste if I wanted to stop him from raising the alarm.
