Chapter 46
Brooke
We found the party before we ever set foot back in Oregon.
Travis worked through the Collective databases, routing everything through a VPN chain so long it made my head hurt. He pulled vendor contracts, encrypted invites, and travel manifests disguised as charity coordination.
Elliot is hosting a private event in Portland.
Grant is on the confirmed list.
So is Sophie.
Knox is dead. Kristie is dead. They know that. They know someone has taken them out. If they have any survival instinct at all, they should assume we are coming.
“They’re either setting a trap,” Travis explains over the call, “or they’re so arrogant they think you won’t come back here after everything that happened.”
Seth leaned back in his seat. “Well they’re fucking wrong.”
The three of us drive down.
Beau handles the wheel for most of the trip while Seth and I sit in the back.
The highway cuts through miles of forest and wet asphalt, the sky hanging low and gray above the road.
Travis stayed behind at the Washington house with Luna and Krueger so someone could keep eyes on the network and warn us if anything shifts.
“You three get caught,” Travis says, “I will absolutely deny knowing you.”
“You will absolutely go down as our accomplice,” Beau replies.
“Yeah,” Travis admits. “So don’t get caught.”
The closer we get to Oregon, the tighter my chest feels. This is where everything starts unraveling. The manor. The victims. The bodies.
If Elliot is arrogant enough to host a party after all of that, he either believes we are dead or believes he is untouchable.
Neither of those things is true.
We roll into the outskirts of Portland just after dark. We check into a seedy motel on the edge of town. The carpet feels damp under my shoes. The air smells like old cigarettes and cheap cleaner.
Nobody comes looking for us here. That's the only comforting part.
The next day we locate Sophie.
That afternoon, Sophie walks out of the hotel with a driver escorting her to the curb. A black SUV idles at the front entrance, polished and spotless, sitting like a prop in front of the revolving doors.
She wears oversized sunglasses and walks down the steps with the slow confidence of someone who believes nothing bad can ever happen to her.
Every part of that ease raises the tension in my chest.
The SUV pulls away from the hotel and drifts toward the boutique district, stopping in front of a shop with dark windows and a gold logo on the glass. The store looks high-end, with tailored mannequins in the front and frosted glass hiding the back rooms.
We sit in the car across the street and watch the entrance through the windshield. Traffic moves around us, horns sound here and there, and an occasional siren passes in the distance that has nothing to do with us.
She spends almost forty minutes inside the boutique. I picture her in front of a bright mirror, turning side to side, smoothing the fabric down over her hips, maybe laughing with a stylist, acting like she is not a sadistic murderous bitch.
Our car idles between a delivery van and a dark sedan, the engine humming low enough to blend with the background noise of passing traffic.
Sophie’s SUV remains parked directly outside the boutique entrance in the alleyway.
The engine runs as the driver opens the door and steps out, lifting his phone to check the screen before bringing it to his ear.
“She’s been inside forever,” I say.
Seth glances toward the boutique entrance. “She’ll come out soon.”
I shift my focus back to the driver.
He moves a few feet away from the SUV, and his jacket falls open as he walks. The gun at his side is easy to spot now. An inside-the-waistband holster sits on his right hip.
Seth sees it at the same time I do.
The driver paces along the curb with a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other, drifting farther down the sidewalk as he scrolls. He pauses every few steps to type, then keeps walking without once looking back at the vehicle.
From the back seat, Beau finally speaks.
“What’s in the cooler?”
Seth lets out a quiet breath that almost passes for a laugh.
“A gift,” he says. “For Sophie.”
Beau looks at the cooler and smirks.
Seth shifts his attention to the SUV across the street. “It’s time.”
I nod.
We both step out before the driver even thinks to turn around.
Seth crosses the street with calm confidence, blending into the flow of pedestrians.
I head in the opposite direction along the sidewalk, then circle back behind the parked SUV.
I slip behind the SUV and press the release beneath the rear hatch.
The trunk pops open with a soft click. I lift it just enough to slide inside and lower it quietly behind me.
I shift across the cargo space and lower myself flat against the floor behind the folded seats.
The passenger door opens.
Seth slides into the seat before the driver reaches the door.
The driver climbs in, still distracted by whatever is on his phone. He shuts the door and tosses the device onto the center console before finally turning his head.
“What the f—”
Seth moves before the sentence finishes.
The knife drives forward beneath the man’s ribs.
The driver’s eyes widen as the blade punches into him. Air bursts from his lungs in a wet gasp. His hand drops toward the holster at his hip.
Seth twists the knife deeper.
The man’s shoulders jerk as pain tears through him. His fingers brush the grip of the gun but never close around it.
Seth rips the blade free and drives it into him again with brutal force.
Blood spreads across the front of the man’s shirt and soaks into the seat. His mouth opens twice as if he means to shout. Only a choking sound comes out.
Seth grabs the back of his collar and forces him forward against the steering wheel.
The driver slumps there with his forehead resting just above the horn.
From the trunk I watch Seth wipe the blade against the man’s sleeve before sliding the knife back beneath his jacket.
Then he shifts the body slightly so it leans naturally toward the wheel, like a driver bent forward to check something on the dashboard.
I stay perfectly still in the cargo space and watch the boutique entrance through the narrow strip of glass behind me.
Twenty minutes later Sophie steps outside.
Even from this distance I feel my chest tighten when I see her.
Her dark hair hangs loose around her shoulders and a black coat wraps tightly around her waist. Sunglasses rest on top of her head as she steps onto the sidewalk.
She looks relaxed and comfortable. That’s about to fucking end.
She pauses near the entrance while a clerk hands her a white shopping bag. They speak briefly. Sophie smiles.
The sight of that smile makes my jaw tighten.
Seth watches her through the side mirror.
She turns and walks down the sidewalk toward the SUV without scanning her surroundings. Her heels strike the pavement in steady, confident steps. She opens the rear door and climbs inside.
For a moment she notices nothing.
She places the shopping bag beside her and adjusts the sleeve of her coat.
Then she looks up.
Her eyes move toward the front of the vehicle.
The driver’s body still leans forward over the steering wheel. Blood slides slowly down the side of his neck and onto the console.
Her body freezes.
Seth turns in the seat and looks directly at her.
Recognition strikes her immediately.
Her hand flies toward the door handle.
Seth presses the central lock button and the mechanism clicks loudly through the SUV.
She yanks it again.
Panic spreads across her face.
“What the fuck—”
She twists toward the opposite door.
Locked.
Her breathing begins to speed up.
Then she hears my voice behind her.
“Miss me, Sophie?”
She turns just as I pull the plastic bag tight over her head.
Her reaction is immediate. Her hands fly upward as her body jerks violently against the seat. Her heels slam against the floor while she twists beneath my grip.
The plastic tightens over her face every time she tries to inhale. Her fingers claw at the bag as panic surges through her.
I brace my knee into the seat behind her back and hold the plastic firmly in place.
“Surprise, bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”
She fights harder.
Her elbow smashes against the door panel while her nails scrape across my wrists.
Each breath sucks the plastic tighter against her mouth.
Seth reaches forward and shoves the driver’s seat lever down. The seat drops back hard as he grabs the man by the collar and hauls his body across the console, forcing the weight of him into the backseat beside Sophie. Blood smears across the leather as the corpse collapses against the door.
Seth slides behind the steering wheel, adjusts the seat forward, and starts the engine. The SUV pulls smoothly away from the curb and disappears into traffic. A few cars back, Beau falls in behind us.
No one outside notices anything.
Inside the vehicle, Sophie’s movements begin to weaken. Her hands keep clawing at the plastic but the strength behind them fades quickly. Sophie’s body sags forward.
I keep the bag tight for several more seconds. Her fingers slip from my wrists and her head drops against the seat. I drive the needle into her neck and press the sedative in. Her body goes limp almost immediately.
I loosen my grip and pull the plastic away from her face.
Sophie collapses sideways across the seat, unconscious. The boutique shopping bag has fallen to the floor and several pieces of clothing spill halfway out.
Seth glances at us through the rearview mirror.
“Is she out?”
“Yes.”
He nods once and turns onto the main road.
In the back seat, Sophie’s chest rises slowly with each breath. I lean back and watch her.
This time she isn't escaping her karma.
We bring Sophie back to the motel once the sedative drags her under completely. Her head slumps against the seatbelt, mouth slack, eyes rolled half-open in that empty, drugged way.