On top of a mini fridge, there was a note.
“There’s an agent stationed in the opposite room.
There’s tape on your door, so don’t leave. We’ll know if you’ve opened your door. This is for your safety.
You are a guest of the Bureau, so please let us know if there’s anything you require.
Thank you for your patience.”
I screwed the note up in frustration and threw it at the wall. My weak throw barely hit, and reminded me of so many attempts my father had made to get me to join a little league or something. He’d even got me a pair of ice skates once, thinking I’d taken an interest in playing ice hockey—turns out, I was just into the hot guys who played.
At least I had a window. Turned out there was no view, though. It faced out onto a brick wall so close I could touch it—if there wasn’t a mesh metal grid covering the window. I couldn’t even push a finger through it. I tried.
Five minutes felt like five hours. I knew they’d called me a guest, but I was a prisoner—and as a smirk formed, trying to make a joke to myself about how they’d got the wrong guy, I deflated, and crumbled in thought, letting myself fall onto the hard bed.
This wasn’t supposed to have happened like this. I was supposed to get another week in at work. But then Jacques entered my life, and something changed at work, something happened I don’t think I could have foreseen. That Jacques had been telling the whole truth, and Nexovex knew about it—they knew about him—the Reaper.
There should’ve been a pit of dread in my stomach at the thought, but instead I was excited, ready, and hopeful he would come for me, my protector.
Then the dread appeared. I’d forgotten Mr. Thimble...crap.
7. JACQUES
Mercy had tried to take the wind out of my sails by telling me I had to go this alone if I wanted to pursue Ezra. I knew she didn’t want to tell me I had to stay and take the job, she always wanted love to prevail, even for guys like me, who were described as being only something a mother could love.
Sanctum wasn’t exactly all on the same page about everything. Wherever the money was, that was where their loyalties lay. I’d been a merc for a long time before coming here, I knew exactly what a briefcase of cash could do to a person—and the moment you allowed all of that cash to take over your life, was the moment your soul fucked off, right out of your body. You were no longer human at that point, your only desire was to be embalmed with every bank note and cent you came across. It was no way to live, and I thought Mercy and Sanctum would’ve been different.
As I was leaving, one of the workers in the standardized gray shirt approached me, handing me a comms ear piece. It all happened in a flash, and I barely caught who it was—River, Finley, it definitely wasn’t Jinksy—but on the other end of it was my favorite helper.
“Come on now, Jacques, it’s about time you found yourself a boyfriend,” Runa’s voice came through in my ear.
“You heard?” I asked.
“We hear everything,” she said.
“I can’t believe she mikes up her own offices,” I grumbled.
“Yeah, well, she likes to make sure everything goes on record,” she said. “Anyway, I’m here to help. I’ve got your a car outside, and there’s a Glock in the glovebox. This is an encrypted channel, but I’m going out on a fucking limb here, Jac.”
I slowed my breathing and nodded. It wasn’t going to be so bad. “I know,” I whispered. The comms was mostly flesh-colored and discreet. Some people completely missed them when they were checking you over—and some people knew, but let you through with a nod and a smile.
“I’ve got you a clear exit. Nobody is going to check or question you,” she said. “And that file, I don’t think it’s the complete picture.”
The file I’d barely looked at. The job I was supposed to have been taking. The one that I feared would tell me I’d be killing Ezra. I had to stop myself from going over every single different idea that could’ve happened, because every single moment I allowed myself to be negative was a moment someone else out there was winning.
“Personally, I knew you weren’t going to take the job,” she said, and then gave a deep sigh. I walked right through security to the exit elevator. “Some folks thought you were going to take the job. The money is good. Protection detail mostly, with a side of collection.”
I shook my head and gritted my teeth, the nodule in my ear aching now as my jaw clenched harder. “I’m trying not to think about that,” I said. “I need to get out of here, and I need to get to Ezra. Have you got eyes on him?”
Runa took her time in responding to me, and finally came back to tell me she didn’t. “There was something scrambling the satellite in that area. I think it was from the FBI. They’ve probably got a van out there interfering with it. I’ve tried checking a couple of street cameras as well.”
It was a whole lot of work they were doing for him. I didn’t like the idea that nobody had eyes on him. If anything, he was probably still at the apartment. The call we’d been on had cut out suddenly with talk about someone knocking at the door.
“It’s okay,” I said, mostly to myself.
“Best bet is for you to race over the East Village, see what’s about, and then we can direct you from there,” she said.
After the check points, and making sure I left with the file, I was directed to a nice black BMW by one of the workers. They gave me a little wink, as if to say they were on my side. I really didn’t want to feel responsible for all of their jobs today—Runa’s job either, we’d done a lot of jobs together, she was one of my biggest supporters, always betting on me down at the cage.
