They share a private laugh. Joe turns toward me.
“Back room’s getting cleaned,” he offers. “But the girls are upstairs if you want a look.”
“Shall we?” Walter asks, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Of course. I want to see what we’re working with.”
He laughs. Joe laughs. I laugh, too. There’s nothing funny about this.
After, we head back toward the stairs. The house creaks around us, full of ghosts and rot. Before we exit, I slow. Turn slightly toward Walter, making sure Joe’s still within earshot.
“About the wedding,” I say, casual as sin, “I need to add a family member.”
Walter glances at me, curious. “I thought your dad and brother were already coming.”
“They are,” I confirm. “But, my stepsister’ll be there, too,” I add. “Lina.”
I watch Joe from the corner of my eye. There it is. Just a flicker. A tilt of the head. A barely perceptible pause. But I knowthe twitch of a fish who’s caught the scent.
“I didn’t think she’d be able to make it. She’s from out of town,” I say softly. “Haven’t seen her in years. Should be a hell of a reunion.”
Walter smiles. “The more, the merrier. Your family is now my family.”
I nod once, like the conversation’s done, but in my head, I’m already tying the bait.
I have to hope Joe took it. Hook, line, and goddamn sinker. He’s invitation was sent months ago, but he still hasn’t RSVP’d. I’m hoping this will be the push he needs. Because now that I’ve seen this place? Trying to drag him out of here would be a death sentence. There’s too many guards, too many guns, and too many cameras. This little field trip has shown me that I need to get him somewhere more public. I need him to come to the damn wedding.
The house will have to rot a little longer. But Joe? He’s already ash.
Walter, unaware of my inner thoughts, keeps walking and talking.
“This room’s a secondary staging area. Quieter, more private. We find it puts the new girls at ease.”
He says it like he’s describing a goddamn spa.
I nod. Or maybe I don’t. Doesn’t matter. I’m not here for the tour. I’m here to watch the walls breathe. To feel the house settle under the weight of its secrets. To remember the exact shade of Joe’s eyes when I said Lina’s name.
I already know what this place is. Don’t need the layout. Don’t need the inventory. Just need the stink of this place etched into my marrow for when the time comes.
Walter shows me downstairs. He talks about numbers. About intake flow. Supply chains. Clients. All of it disguisedunder business-speak. I ask the right questions. Laugh at the right moments. Let the man perform his little pitch while my mind sharpens.
When the tour’s over, I shake Walter’s hand. Smile like I’m impressed. Smirk like I condone this fuckery. He says he has things to handle. Whatever. Then, I walk back out into the filth-stained air, get in my car, and drive home. It may be silent, but my mind is screaming.
Too many bodies. Not enough air. Shackles. Bruises. Eyes that don’t blink anymore.
I pull into the underground parking garage to my apartment and kill the engine. I sit in silence, just needing a second to think. But when I open the car door, someone’s waiting.
Nik leans against the concrete wall, arms crossed, like he owns the place.
I don’t show my surprise. Don’t pause. Just take in his clean lines and cold eyes. Hands in his coat pockets like he doesn’t care what happens next, but he does. Men like him don’t stand in front of men like me unless they’ve got nothing to lose.
“Lost?” I ask, stepping past him and remote locking the doors.
He doesn’t move. “No.”
I head toward the elevator, and he follows. Good.
I press the call button and wait. Nik doesn’t speak. Doesn’t fidget. Just stands behind me as if waiting for me to ask, which I do eventually. I’m a curious bastard.
