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He jumps back when Calvin pulls a switchblade, but he only cuts the zip ties. I see but can’t hear Calvin say one more thing and then Martin is off, sprinting down the hall. The monitors above me change as the motion sensors on the cameras follow his path.
His white dress shirt is stuck to him, sweat making a dark spot down the middle of his back. He paces and pounds the elevator buttons, running a hand over his face waiting for an elevator that is never going to come. After another few seconds of waiting, he ditches the elevator and decides on the stairs.
I watch him scamper up the steps, trying each door at every landing, but I keep them locked. On the seventh floor, he kicks the door and wails, pounding his fists.
This is always my favorite part. When they start to crack, to break. They regress to a child throwing a tantrum when it finally sinks in that they aren’t leaving these halls alive. Any composure goes out the window with the last of their hope.
The next time he slams his shoulder into the door, I unlock it and he tumbles to the floor, the door finally opening. He regains his footing and looks around frantically, trying to decide which way to run down the hallway of rooms. He doesn’t know that he’s merely a mouse in my maze. It doesn’t matter which way he chooses because every route is a dead end until I decide it’s not.
It’s the control as much as—if not more—than the violence that I crave. Total and complete control over his destiny, helps settle the anxiety that is always trying to eat away at me.
He arrives on my floor, red-faced and out of breath, and my blood hums with his approach. He starts down the hall straight toward me. The door to the old suite I am in has been switched with a stairwell door.
When I can hear his footsteps outside, I switch off the monitors and stand.Time’s up.My pulse races under my skin. I love watching them scurry, but I love the anticipation of waiting blind. My breath quickening with every footstep that draws closer.
I roll my head, cracking my neck, and slide gloves over my fingers. The letters tattooed across my knuckles disappear under the black leather. They spell out two short words: CAN’T HIDE.
You can run but…The door cracks open…you can’t hide.
“Hello, Martin.” His backlit frame freezes in the doorway. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I look down at the picture I’ve waited all night to receive. There’s a torrent of feelings, making my head hurt.Fuck,I wanted to draw this out, but now seeing my confirmation proved correct—her face staring back at me from my screen—my already-thin patience snaps.
The dark room lights up for one blinding second. The next second, Martin hits the ground, a bullet hole between his eyes.
1.Fed Up—Ghostmane |
Chapter 2
Chance
Effie
Hadisspreadsoutthelatest surveillance photos on the table in our shared apartment, and I have to steel myself to look him eye to eye. Again.
We’ve rented an apartment under a fake name in the building across from theFox’s Den.Weknow Cash lives in the penthouse apartment above their restaurant. In fact, they own the whole building. I was honestly surprised they didn’t own this one we’re now staying in too.
It may be Cash’s apartment but in the three days we’ve been staked out, documenting everyone coming and going and establishing lines of sight through the windows, we haven’t seen the eldest brother once.
Instead it’s him. Finn.
I’m beginning to wonder if my father gave me this job just to torture me. If he did, it’s working.
I’ve spent the last ten years trying my damnedest to avoid all things Finneas Fox. When the Fox family shows up in the newspaper, I turn the page. When I’m obligated to attend an event he might be at, I suddenly come down with the flu. And on the rare occasion I go out with friends, I ensure we never choose one of the many clubs and bars owned by them.
“We need to get inside. What we’re looking for is inside. I’m sure of it.” Linnie stands and palms the table, shuffling the photos around.
“They only ever have two guards at the front door…,” Hadis muses.
Marguerite leans back in her chair, rocking onto the back legs, “What are you thinking?”
“But the entrance from the roof terrace has no security.” Linnie nods approvingly at her implication.
“But how would you even get up there? The only way to get there is through the apartment which we’ve already determined is always guarded,” I say, and they all look at each other with hints of a smile.
Linnie sits down and laughs, “Finding a way into places we shouldn’t be able to, is quite literally our job description.”Right.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out.
