“Because I didn’t make the best impression. Your mum kicked me out.”
Her lips twitch even as her gaze holds steady. “Mm-hm. Well, you can pick up some cheap deals at the supermarket. If you’ve visited my home already, you’ll know I’m not fancy.”
With the list in hand, I stare at Em. I want her to be safe. I want her not to hate me.
Sometimes, it’s hard to know which side of that line to come down upon. Right now, safe is better. Alive is better.
“Lie down on the bed. I’m going to cuff you while I’m out.”
“No! You don’t have to—”
I hate myself as I manhandle her into position. When I silence her cries with my hand until I can get the tape in place. Her struggles grow so violent that I’ll have bruising down my left-hand side for the next week.
Her vehemence towards the restraints just makes me more determined. There are dozens of equally good explanations but the only reason my brain latches onto is that she wants to be free so she can get the gun, find the ammo, and blow her brains out.
Halfway through, that changes. Halfway through, I’m fairly certain she now wants to shoot me.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” I reassure her as I scan her list and memorise it before tucking my phone away. “Then we can do something fun this afternoon.” She aims a kick right at my crotch when I bend to kiss her and I quickly rethink the gesture, settling instead on a wave. “Please try not to worry.”
What I really want to say is to keep calm, but the phrase is designed to stir the opposite.
In the car, I drum my fingers on the wheel as I wait for the garage door to open, then again, on the driveway outside, as I wait for it to close.
I roll down the window, making sure I can’t hear any cries, any noises coming from the house that would warrant further investigation.
After five minutes with no disturbance, I force myself to pull into the street and drive away.
The most important thing is my computer equipment. Even though I have stuff at the hideout—on top of the stuff I also regularly carry in my car—I need more if I’m going to work out how to infiltrate Braxen’s system.
That I’ve not got anywhere in my previous two attempts doesn’t dissuade me. There’ll be a way in, there always is, I just haven’t wanted to get in there badly enough yet.
Now I have motivation. I have motivation in spades.
Pulling into the driveway at home, I’m still checking items off an internal list, double checking to ensure I miss nothing. I’m already paranoid that something might happen back at the hideout, and I’ve left Em completely defenceless.
On the flip side of that is the worry that she’ll get out of her restraints and…
But my mind screeches to a halt on that point.
I just need to ensure I get everything in one go and do it swiftly.
A car pulls into the driveway as I get out of mine, but I pay little attention. Our house is near the corner, and we frequently have vehicles using the drive as a turning bay. When the engine turns off, I glance over, my hackles rising.
Four men get out of the car. Three of them are large. Larger than me. It’s like someone sent Trent to the copy store and made replicas.
The fourth man is smaller.
The fourth man is Braxen.
My rage reignites in its full glory, choking me, sending my temperature skyrocketing, making my heart thump so fast the world slows down to the individual frames of a stop-action movie.
My hands curl into fists and I glance to the street, finding it empty, neighbours carefully tucked away behind their six-foot fences. A car passes but the driver stares straight ahead. A kid on a scooter circles and heads back to the driveway they came from. My mother, if she’s at home, is tucked safely behind our steel gate. I can’t see the front door from here. Can’t peek into the garage to see if her car’s there.
I size up the fight in a second and find I’m on the losing side. The best I can hope for is to dole out some damage while they beat me to death. Try to get in a few blows that’ll count.
Thank God I left Em behind. Far from here.
I feel the relief like a shot of speed, amping me up. He’s here. And he can only be here because he doesn’t know where she is.
