Eric’s smile was thin. “To take a piss.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He walked to the bathroom, shut the door, and locked it with a soft click.
The moment the latch caught, he stepped over to the toilet, lifted the lid. He braced his hands on the porcelain, breathing hard. His stomach turned violently, leaving him cold and shaken.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Sweat clung to his skin. Behind him, muffled through the door, the men were laughing.
“Think he pissed himself?” Drew chuckled.
“Nah, maybe he’s just in love with the Director and wants to get off,” Andre joked. “Did you see his face?”
Their voices blurred into an indistinguishable murmur. A single thought consumed him, and his focus narrowed. He flushed the toilet, lowered the lid, and turned away. He crossed to the sink and turned on the tap. The cool water felt refreshing against his clammy skin.
His reflection stared back—pale, haunted, eyes too old for someone so young. He ran a hand over his short black hair, smoothing it. His olive complexion slowly returned, though the ghost of something else lingered.
Pain. Rage. Regret. Resolve.
His thoughts flickered to the image in the glass he had seen. If the vision he saw truly was of Kiki, she was much more powerful than he remembered—and she knew about him. He didn’t know how, but he was sure she had been close, and they would meet again—soon. Very soon.
He breathed deeply, controlling the residual pain coursing through him, and straightened. Exhaling, he adjusted the open collar of his pale blue dress shirt before tugging at the cuffs. He flexed his fingers when he noticed his hands trembled slightly.
The laughter echoed through the door. It was tempting—to silence them. To make them scream.
Not yet,he reminded himself.Soon. Patience.
He unlocked the door and stepped back into the suite. The laughter stopped. All three men straightened as if they hadn’t been talking behind his back.
He picked up his jacket and walked toward the exit.
Lyle rose and stepped forward, blocking him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Eric paused.
He looked at Lyle—really looked—and had to remind himself not yet for the second time.
“ToThe Rocks,” he said flatly. “The man we should’ve been after is there.”
Andre grinned, rising to his feet. “Now that’s morelike it.”
Drew rubbed his hands together. “Let’s hit the club. Maybe grab a drink after.”
Lyle scowled. “You’re not doing anything stupid, right?”
Eric turned and met his eyes.
His smile spread—slow, deliberate, unsettling.
“Only if someone gets in my way,” he said evenly.
The color drained from Lyle’s face.
Without another word, Eric opened the door and stepped into the hall. The soft click of the latch behind him echoed like a trigger pulled in silence.
Thirteen
The first pale streaks of dawn filtered through the oak, maple, and white pine forest as Nikos turned off the highway and guided the psychedelic van down a winding gravel road.
The tires crunched over finely packed stone as the van dipped along the gravel road. Mist curled along the forest floor, rising like ghosts from the earth. The trees closed in tighter the deeper they drove.
