I look for anything out of the ordinary, the house is always spotless, almost sterile so anything out of place will be a red flag, but the house seems as per the norm.
“Everett!” I yell my brother’s name.
He appears a moment later, “And just where were you last night?” He grins, wiggling his brows as if he has a clue.
It’s his ease that takes me off alert. Everett may be the playful one out of the three of us, but he is a skilled assassin, one of the best and he didn’t have a single worry line on his face.
Whoever had come to town for Torin, hadn’t come here.
Not yet at least.
Though they will, I have no doubt about that, but they won’t be finding Torin.
They’ll be finding me.
Chapter Eight
Iwalk through the town casually, hands buried in my pockets but I’m watching. I’m looking for them.
They’ll stand out in a town this small.
The organization we work for is ruthless. No one leaves successfully, it’s either you stay until you die, or you leave, and you die, though they won’t tell you that. It’s a rumor that runs through us, whispers in shadows that some people choose to ignore and not believe. I’ve always been curious but never really investigated it, I should have.
If I had known, I could have prepared better for this.
I cross the street and open the door to the diner, finding it teeming with people, the booths filled, some overflowing and the bar at least two deep, three in some places as everyone tries to get a drink and order food for lunch. The jukebox plays in the corner, but the loudness of the diner overpowers the sound.
Vanessa is working overtime behind the bar, her skin has a sheen of sweat on it and she doesn’t pause as she hops from one customer to the next.
She doesn’t spot me which I’m glad for, I didn’t want to distract her. I’m trying not to think about her words early this morning, not when the image of her coming apart in front of me is still so fresh in my mind.
I knew it wouldn’t last but I hadn’t expected it to end so quickly either.
Shaking my head, I push those thoughts away and scan the crowd. It’s the usual, families here on holiday with young kids that giggle and squeal in the booths, older couples dressed in hiking gear, their rucksacks on the floor by their feet, getting in a good meal before they set off for their afternoon hikes up the cliffs. There are the locals and some kids and I’m almost certain the people I’m looking for aren’t here, until I find a booth in the corner that is currently housing three men.
Two of them watch the diner, but one of them, the one sat between the other two has spotted me.
He looks familiar.
His brow quirks and a knowing smirk pulls on the corner of his mouth as he leans in to say something to the man on his right. Whatever he says is enough for the second guy and then the third to look over to me.
Shit.
Unable to stop myself, I flick my eyes to Vanessa, my gaze snagging on her easy smile as she chats with one of her customers. She laughs and the sound lifts a weight off my chest even if dread and unease swirls like a nauseating pool inside my stomach.
But I realize my mistake the moment my eyes make it back to the group of men at the table. They’ve followed my eyeline and found her. A weakness will always be used. Exploited.
There is no limit to the deprivation this group of people will go to, no lines they won’t cross. While most of us have our own set of rules, our own boundaries, the ones in the inner circle do not. It’s why they have their seats. The Farrow’s, the heads of the organization, are brutal and downright evil, but the men they choose to sit closest to them are so beyond redemption, I’m unsure hell will even want them.
And I just handed them my weakness.
I had to do something before they took this into their own hands.
I take a few steps towards them, but they get up, closing the distance between us.
The one in the middle stops in front of me while the younger of the three heads to the bar, waiting as if he isn’t the wolf in a flock of sheep and the other, older than the one in front of me stands to the side, hands in his pockets.
“Kolten Avery,” The middle man says, “Pleasure to meet you.”
