He watches me. Eyes gleaming, breath steady. And for one harrowing second, I’m sure this is it.
His fingers curl tighter around whatever’s in his pocket—a gun, I’m sure of it now. I can hear it scrape against the inside of his coat as he begins to draw it out.
I don’t breathe.
I don’t move.
But then, suddenly, he stops. Freezes, mid-motion.
His head tilts, just slightly, like a fox catching scent in the dark, and his eyes drift past me, beyond the garden wall, into the shadows.
And then, casually, almost like it’s a joke between old friends, he says, “Finally decided to join us? It’s about time.”
My stomach drops.
Anderson glances back at me, catching the look on my face. The confusion, the terror, the thousands of thoughts colliding. And he laughs. A low, delighted sound that crawls under my skin.
“I must say,” he murmurs, “I’m quite flattered.”
I can’t speak. I don’t dare.
“You didn’t think I managed all of this alone, did you?” His voice is soft now, clearly amused.
My breath rattles in my chest, and I take half a step back.
He doesn’t stop me.
“Go on,” he says smoothly, gesturing with his chin. “Look.”
And somehow, I do. Slowly, against every instinct screaming in my bones, I turn my head. Just enough.
Just enough to see the figure walking toward us from the edge of the garden path.
Calm.
Unhurried.
Not hiding at all.
I gasp.
Loud and sharp and guttural, like I’ve been punched in the lungs.
Because walking toward us, under the soft halo of the garden lights, is Paris Brooks.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Paris stops just a few feet away from Anderson. Her hands are tucked into the pockets of her coat, and even in the low light I can see the way her jaw clenches.
“There was a h-hold up,” she says, eyes flicking to Anderson and then to me.
The stutter is faint but noticeable, but she doesn’t look ashamed of it this time. If anything, she sounds… tired.
I take a step back from both of them, but the garden wall is behind me now. There’s nowhere to go.
“Wait,” I say, and my voice cracks. “What is this? You—you planned this?”
Neither of them says anything right away. But they don’t have to. It’s written in the way they stand, side by side, like a team. Like a threat.
