“Preferably not,” Ronan responded. “If possible, I’d like to incapacitate them and keep them out of it. However, if they try to kill you, then you’ll do what you need to do to stay alive.”
Dori nodded once. “Got it.”
“Got it,” I echoed, a little quieter this time.
“Let’s go.”
We followed Ro out of the training room, the door swinging shut behind us. The halls were dimmer now, most of the building settling into that late-night quiet that always made everything feel a little more serious.
A little more real.
* * *
“Jackson Neil is thirty-eight, recently divorced, and living in a two-bedroom house, approximately an hour outside the city. He was arrested about three years ago for molesting his wife’s sick niece. The charges were dropped after the family miraculously came up with the money for a surgery the girl needed. His wife divorced him soon after, and he didn’t fight when she wanted the majority of their assets,” Ronan explained as the three of us sat in a dark car parked behind the hedges lining the man’s backyard.
“So he bought himself out of it?” Dorian grunted.
“Well, he thought he did,” Ro continued. “When the girl’s grandparents found out about everything, they put a hit out on him.”
“But if the grandparents have enough to pay for a fucking assassin, then why didn’t they pay for the surgery?” I wondered.
Ro’s gaze flicked to me in the rearview mirror, pale eyes catching what little light filtered through the hedges. “They saythey didn’t know,” he said simply. “The parents kept it quiet—who knows why? By the time the grandparents found out, the surgery had already happened.”
“Oh.” I leaned back, that answer settling heavy in my chest. “So now they’re… what? Fixing it the only way they can?”
Ro didn’t sugarcoat it. “They’re making sure he doesn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else.” Continuing, he supplied, “Neil’s been getting anonymous threats that started escalating a few months back. Because of that, he might be expecting trouble, so keep on your toes.”
I nodded slowly, processing. “So… we go in, hope it’s only Neil in there, and get him?”
Ro’s lips twitched faintly. “That’s the simplified version.”
Dori adjusted slightly in his seat, leaning forward to try to get a better look through the windshield. “Where’s the entry point?”
Ro pointed subtly toward the back of the house. “Sliding door. The alarm system is outdated, and he tends to keep the back unlocked.”
My face scrunched up. “He’s been getting anonymous threats, but leaves a door unlocked?!”
“Don’t try to understand stupid, Lane,” Ro sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel.
“Does he want to be murdered? Is that it?” I mumbled under my breath.
Dorian spoke up. “So where’s the torture happening?”
“Inside.”
“Inside?” I repeated incredulously. “Like… here inside? His house inside?”
Dori blew out a breath. “That’s risky.”
“It is,” Ro agreed calmly. “Which is why I didn’t originally plan on bringing either of you. The clients were specific. They want him to feel safe right up until he doesn’t. Nodisappearance. No drawn-out missing person case. They want him found.”
A small chill slid down my spine at the way he said that.
Found.
“Oh,” I murmured. “So this is a message.”
Dori asked, “What kind of torture are we talking about?”
