Chapter 22
Ledger
CHIEF: We got eyes on a hawk. Soared southwest. Landed at the motel two hours ago.
CHIEF: Strange. The security cameras seem to be down.
CHIEF: It would be a travesty if something happened between now and when the security company comes out to fix them in the AM.
Iglance down at the text again. The fire chief, Ryan McChester, is a buddy of mine. He’s a good man who has an imperfect moral compass.
We’ve helped each other out from time to time and this is one of those moments where he’s looking out for me.
I’d asked if he would keep an eye out for any unusual activity or suspicious individuals that might show up in Caddawalk.
I’ll owe him for this, and I’ll pay gladly.
It’s good to have people like him on my side.
The text message came five minutes ago. I haven’t let go of the burner phone since, afraid I’ll miss any other news. Trapped in a permanent constricted state, my chest won’t expand enough for my lungs to gain any air.
I’ve made a terrible mistake.
The thought had crossed my mind as I waited for Blair’s call when she first arrived, but I thought that nightmare was over now that she was here.
I was wrong. So fucking wrong. My grip around the burner tightens.
My other hand, wrapped around the banister of the porch, loosens so that I can reach up and slide it down my face.
The motion doesn’t wipe away the stress.
There’s no doubt that the fucker bunkering down at the old motel is going to get a bullet in his head. But what about afterward? More will come. I know it. Something’s gone wrong somewhere down the line. Who the fuck is after Blair?
It’s one thing for a singular party to go after a target once a contract’s been picked up. But a multitude of killers coming after the same target isn’t normal. The fact that Blair was chased all the way here, and now this fucker shows up, tells me that she might be the target of a free-for-all.
Fuck.
Panic isn’t in my nature. That was stomped out of me a long time ago, back when I was just a new recruit in the Marines. That’s how I know this feeling rioting inside of me isn’t a normal human reaction. While this might feel like panic, it’s something far worse.
The creature inside of me is tearing at the seams, ready to break loose and destroy the threat that’s just crept onto my territory. I take a shaky breath, trying to settle the beast rattling in the cage I’ve trapped it in.
I can keep Blair safe, but for how long?
How many more will track her down to Caddawalk?
I thought once she got here the threat would be over.
Wes’s idea to move one of the bodies outside the city should have made it look like Blair moved on.
It had been a clever decision on his part.
Is it luck that this contractor landed here? Or does he know something?
It might be worth keeping him around, ask him a few questions before I put a bullet in his head. My thoughts flicker to the hidden room downstairs where the cage is located. I should put it to good use.
My hand drops back to the railing and I look out onto my property, the woods dark yet not all that quiet. The wildlife is loud tonight, the bugs too. It’s probably their last hoorah before the first frost kills them off. I hardly notice them. My thoughts turn to Blair.
She’s out there with Santi. It pleases me that the two of them have clicked. He’ll be one more reason Blair won’t want to go when the time has come to tell her the coast is clear and all is well. Tonight, that seems to be a distant future. Much further than I ever intended.
With a sigh, I push away from the railing and head inside through the front door.
Rhett’s still up, lying on the couch with his hands behind his head watching some television show.
He doesn’t look up when I walk by to head downstairs but when I walk past the room again, with my rifle slung over my shoulder, he notices.
He sits up straight as I pause in the threshold of the room. His dark eyes sharpen as he gets to his feet.
“What happened? Is Santi—”
“As far as I know, they’re fine,” I assure him before he can worry. “I got other business to take care of. Wes is upstairs, sleeping. If something happens while I’m gone, wake him.”
The tension in Rhett’s body eases but only just a bit. He takes one of his lip piercings into his mouth, then lets it go after a long thoughtful minute.
“You need help?” he asks.
I raise a brow, surprised by the offer. If I asked Rhett for help he would be by my side without a single objection.
But he’s not one to offer assistance.
“It’s not going to be pretty,” I warn.
“I kind of figured, you know what with the gun in your possession.” He rakes his dark hair out of his face and moves towards me. “It’ll beat sitting around all night waiting for the others to get home.”
“They shouldn’t be out too much later,” I point out. “How long can shopping and dinner take?”
“Given that Santi’s wanted to play The Hunt tonight, it’ll be late. Disposing of the body takes time.”
My body stiffens and fury burns through me.
“Damn it! Blair’s supposed to be laying low, not murdering people! Why aren’t you out there playing with him instead? Why’d he involve Blair in this?”
Rhett’s dark eyes flash and his lips press together in a thin line as he passes me. Over his shoulder he says, “You’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Son of a bitch, I’m going to kill Santi when they get back. I told him to behave and he’s going directly against the order. Maybe Blair will talk him out of it. Maybe—
I pause as I register Rhett’s tone.
My anger wanes a bit as understanding dawns on me. This is why Rhett’s still up. Something’s going on between him and Santi. Is he pissed he wasn’t invited to play tonight? Or was he invited but declined, hoping that would keep Santi in for the evening?
I don’t dive into their personal lives but I know Rhett is quietly possessive when it comes to Santi.
Blair is throwing a wrench into, well, whatever the two of them have together.
Rhett doesn’t hide his irritation whenever Santi and Blair are together, and Santi does a piss-poor job hiding that he loves Rhett’s reaction.
I hate to admit it, but jealousy gives Rhett a bit of life in that otherwise stoney expression.
Maybe Santi and Blair being out won’t be too bad after all if it helps break Rhett out of his fucking shell a bit. Blair knows how to clean up a mess and Santi’s been doing this for a while… I guess it should be okay.
I turn to watch Rhett run up the stairs. From the top he calls down, “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”
Rhett is great company for jobs like this.
He lacks the standard curiosity that most people have.
Give him instructions and he’ll see them through without question.
The only issue with having Rhett with me on something like this is that he’ll walk straight into danger in the hopes of getting a bullet right between the eyes.
He’s stone-fucking-cold like that.
When I pull over on an obscure emergency road in a particularly wooded area, Rhett doesn’t ask me why or what’s going on. He simply pulls a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket, lights it, and takes a long drag.
“What do you need me to do?” he asks.
I jerk my head toward the direction of the road we’d just come from.
“Head that way until you get to Guppy’s Motel, it’s about a mile from here. Knock on the last door on the right and step out of the way when the door opens,” I explain. “Once the target is down, tie their wrists and ankles together. I’ll pick you and the target up right after.”
Rhett tips his head back and blows the smoke from his lungs out through the crack of the window.
“Alright, see you in a bit.”
With that, Rhett shoves open the door and climbs out of the truck.
After slamming the door shut behind him, Rhett slips around to the bed of the truck and pulls out the supplies he’ll need.
After a few minutes, he takes off down the road with both hands in his pockets and his cigarette trapped between his lips.
I wait a beat until he’s out of sight before climbing out of the truck with my rifle.
With ease, I pull myself up onto the roof of the cab.
Just like with all things created from habit, setting up my tripod and gun come naturally.
Checking the scope, I adjust the magnification and direction until I’m locked onto where my target will be.
The beast inside me settles as it realizes that I’m working on taking out the threat to our singular obsession.
Tomorrow, I’ll have to alert Blair to our visitor. My stomach clenches at the thought. She’s just now starting to settle in. This will definitely upset her.
Through my scope, I watch as Rhett finally arrives at the motel.
I track his progress across the dimly lit parking lot.
He’s smart enough to know to stick close to the shadows.
There’s only three cars in the lot, and one probably belongs to the receptionist in the lobby, so there’s a slim chance Rhett will be seen.
But it pays to be safe rather than sorry.
Rhett’s gait is lazy as he strolls toward the last door on the right.
When he gets there, he pauses a second. He tilts his head toward the door, as if to listen for something, then straightens before knocking.
I suck in a deep breath, then let it out slow and steady.
There’s a few seconds of stillness before the door cracks open.
“Fuck,” I mutter beneath my breath.
It’s not open wide enough for me to take a shot. That, and it’s completely dark inside. The fucker must be wary about the unexpected intrusion and is playing it smart.
Rhett shoves his hands into his pockets and says something. I only know he speaks because his shoulders shift, rising and falling in a shrug. Then, in a burst of energy, he kicks the door open the rest of the way then steps to the side.