Chapter 31 Saint
Saint
She leaves me alone for hours.
That’s also information.
The hum of machinery never stops. Somewhere deeper in the building a generator runs, the low vibration traveling through the concrete floor and into the legs of the chair bolted beneath me.
The lights above buzz softly.
Too bright.
Too steady.
She’s waiting.
For something.
For someone.
She wants Laney to panic.
She wants Marco to rush in.
She wants time to stretch until doubt starts eating at me.
She underestimates one thing.
I’m very, very good at waiting.
Patience is a weapon most people don’t understand.
I start rocking the chair.
Slow.
Careful.
Just enough to shift the weight.
Metal groans softly beneath the movement.
I pause.
Listen.
No footsteps.
No doors.
Nothing.
Good.
I rock again.
Testing the bolts.
Testing the concrete beneath them.
Feeling the vibration through the chair legs.
Every sound is data.
Every vibration is a map.
The bolts are deep.
Industrial anchors.
But the floor?
The floor is old.
I rock again.
Harder this time.
The chair scrapes a fraction of an inch.
Pain flares through my ribs, but I don’t stop.
I don’t need hope.
Hope gets people killed.
What I need…
Is one mistake.
Just one.
And when it comes—
I’ll take everything from her.