AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That's not how it works,” Sara said, and her eyes searched my face. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” I said, and we continued walking. Then I put my arm around her shoulders as we turned the corner and came upon the shadowed parking lot where a distant and hulking building blocked out Boston harbor.
“Jesus,” Sara said weakly.
My eyes found the single lightbulb illuminating the white door and I swallowed hard as I tightened my grip on Sara’s arm. Our eyes met, and she shook her head.
I tried to smile as I asked for the second time that night, “Why don’t you wait out here?”
CHAPTER THREE
Lia
Ijumped when the knob turned and the door slid open with oiled ease.
I paused on the landing then marched in. With all my might, I resisted the urge to look back at Sara standing across the street in the shadows, her phone clutched in her hand in case anything went wrong. I pulled the door shut behind me and glanced around.
Once upon a time, this building had housed a busy factory. You could tell from the vague shapes of machinery scattered here and there in the shadows, along with the hooks and chains dangling down from the ceiling. Disperesed big industrial lights flickered above. I couldn't tell the size of this place but from the eerie whistle of wind sneaking through the broken windows and theshadows reaching long across the walls, it had to have been massive.
I jumped as I heard an ominous thud from somewhere and then again when I heard what sounded like a soft laugh. Frozen in place, I waited for someone to appear — more than likely wielding a chainsaw.
When nothing happened, I congratulated my ability to hold my bladder. Then, urging myself to move, I turned in a circle and surveyed the area in front of the door. There had to be some kind of clue as to where I should go next.
My eyes snagged on a dab of white paint on the floor, then another and one after that. They marked a path that wove through the machines. After walking for almost five minutes, I came upon a set of old-fashioned stairs, each step a rusted metal grill that looked like they would come apart in a gust of wind. Controlling my breath, even as my throat squeezed with nerves, I made myself take the first step up and winced at the shriek of metal underfoot.
There was no keeping quiet as I continued, my hands sweating as I gripped the railing and hauled myself up. At the top, I wiped my palms on my jeans and knocked on the door in front of me.
When nothing happened, I opened the door and peered inside.
“Hello?” I called. “Mr. White?”
“Lost?”
I jumped a mile as a man materialized and flicked his eyes over me. A handkerchief obscured his face, while his hat was pulled so low I could barely see the glitter of his eyes.
“No.” I drew myself up. “I’m looking for Ryan White. Dean told me he’d be here.”
The man stared me down. “You know about our business, do you?”
“Yes, I know that you pay a lot of money for, uh, jobs one can’t find in the classifieds.”
The man chuckled. “And where’d you find that out, missy?”
“From my cousin Ricky,” I said. “He told me about Dean, the Taranis drink and how to get the information to get here.”
“Ricky Gold?” the man asked. I gave a nervous nod. Ricky had shortened our last name from Goldin to Gold years ago, albeit not legally. “Alright. How can we be of service, Miss Gold?”
“I need money,” I said bluntly. “A lot of money, as quickly as possible.”
“Yeah, I imagine you do,” he said, and I realized I could hear a faint British accent in his voice. “After all, your father’s skippedtown, your mother's dead and you've got nowhere else to go.” My blood ran cold and my ears pulsed in fear. I hadn't even realized I'd stepped back until my butt hit the freezing railing behind me and the stairs let out an ominous groan. “Mr. White will be delighted to meet you.”
With that, he stepped back and ushered me in.
We walked down a dark hallway. At the end of it stood a strange, almost futuristic-looking door with an out-of-place crooked sign on it that said “foreman” in rusting, vintage letters. My guide gave it a knock.
Someone called “enter,” from inside.
“Be specific,” he said as he twisted the knob and gave me a firm push toward the darkness before pulling the door shut.
