AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Is there anything else you need, miss?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He was extremely nervous, as if he hadn’t expected me to be awake. Entirely caught off guard, as if he’d never had this happen before.
I shut the door behind me and leaned against the door and flipped the lock.
“Actually, yes. Why are you so nervous?” I asked, dropping the dreamy facade.
“I don’t know what you mean, miss.” He looked terrified now. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and desperately looked around for an escape route.
“I think you do. You expected me to be asleep, didn’t you?”
“No, miss. I’m…I’m just bringing towels…as…as you requested.” His stutter was like a flashing neon sign,GUILTY.
“Then you won’t mind showing me your phone.” I held out my hand expectantly.
“That is highly inappropriate. If you have any questions, you can ask my manager. Let me go get him for you,” he said, his tone angry and defensive.
Enough of this shit. “I’m going to ask nicely one last time. Let me see your phone, or I will make you regret it.” I flashed him a peek of my FBI badge, not that it held any weight here.
His Adam’s apple bobbed again as he pulled out his phone and handed it over. It wasn’t password protected, which was lucky for me. I pulled up his messaging app and wasn’t disappointed. His last text message thread looked like it was from the HR manager, although the contact didn’t have his name; it just saidboss man.
Boss man: Head up to her room now. Should have been long enough. Let me know when you’re done.
The housekeeper in front of me had given a thumbs-up to the message.
I quickly fired back a text.
Me: Done.
Boss man: On my way up.
Stage two, clearing the scene. “I’m going to be real straight with you. You have two options, and you have no time to think through them, so listen carefully. You can either make your way down the hall and knock on my friends’ door and tell them everything you know about the Reapers. With that option, you’ll probably get a really good plea deal, especially if you acted on their behalf under duress. Or you can refuse, and I’ll tie you up and shove you in the closet. After that, I can’t guarantee what will happen to you.” My tone changed from firm to nonchalant, showing just how little I cared about his fate.
He thought only for a moment before he asked, “What room number?”
I gave him the number and sent him on his way, keeping his phone. It was evidence, and he didn’t need to send any kind of warning. There’d be no fun in that for me. I watched as he crossed the hallway and knocked on their door before I shut my own.
My real target would be here any minute, and I needed to be ready. I laid down in the bed and made it look like I was asleep. I wasn’t sure what the housekeeper would typically do besides making sure their target was asleep. I suppose I should have asked the man before I let him leave, but that couldn’t be helped now.
I closed my eyes and waited. I kept my gun tucked under the pillow behind my head. Around five minutes later, I heard the metal of the door lock turn and the door gently open. Quiet footsteps padded against the floor and the door shut behind the intruder. He flipped the lock. For half a second, my mind was brought back to a storage closet on an aircraft carrier. The sound of the lock engaging from the inside of the closet as my uniform was pulled down against my will, a mouth clamped over my mouth. Harsh whispers and threats whispered into my ear.
Then just like that, I snapped myself out of it. Occasionally, despite my best efforts, my work still brought me back to my waking nightmare, and I had to pull myself from it. Trauma never truly went away. Occasionally the terror clawed its way through the dirt I’d tried to bury it under.
I remained where I was, pretending to be in a deep sleep, despite my racing heart. It wasn’t from nerves, but adrenaline. I imagined it was the same feeling Adam and his friends had when they engaged in a firefight or dropped behind enemy lines.
When the intruder was at my bedside, he grabbed my wrist tightly. I wanted to stop my act just to punch him in the face. Why would you grab someone who was sleeping that hard except to cause them pain? Whoever he was, he wasn’t working for the Reapers under duress; this was for enjoyment.
He bent lower, getting near my face, likely checking the rhythm of my breathing. I pulled my hand out from under my pillow and pointed the gun right under his chin.
“Good morning, mother fucker,” I said with a wide grin.
He immediately let go of my wrist and took a step back. I kept the pistol under his chin.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he put his hands up.
“Catching a predator,” I retorted, unable to keep a smirk off my face.
“I just came to check on you. My housekeeper reported you weren’t feeling well,” he said. His Adam’s apple bobbed too, and sweat began to bead on his forehead.
“Is that right?” I asked.
