Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
LEAF
I might have made myself two very strong drinks in preparation for this meeting with the person from the dark web.
They called themselves SilentEcho, and the name gave me shivers.
Never heard a silent echo before. Not sure that even exists, but then again, maybe this person doesn’t really exist either.
Because they’re late.
And I’m debating whether or not I should call it quits, call a car, and go home. In the comfort of my messy kitchen, I could make myself another martini. This time, no olives and not dirty. Maybe with sugar and strawberries this time.
Something sweet.
Well, that is, if Michael hasn’t eaten all the little berries I’ve managed to grow.
I pace the seedy motel room, the sole of my shoe catching on something on the carpet. I glance down and see that it’s a piece of gum. Fucking gross.
I stare at it and then at the bottom of my shoe.
A long-suffering sigh leaves my throat, and I scrub a hand over my face.
This is pure insanity. I’ve lost my fucking mind. I let out an unhinged laugh because of course I have.
I know that. My aunt’s old house knows it. Her ghost knows it.
Michael knows it, though he’s also mostly responsible for it.
I stare at the door that sits slightly off its hinges and glance down at my phone once more. This is where they told me to meet, sending me the coordinates and a time. But they’re not here. So either they’re dead on the side of the road somewhere, or maybe…
Maybe this is a setup.
My mind screeches to a halt, and my lungs constrict.
Oh fuck, is this a setup? Am I going to jail?
Buying TNT is technically illegal—probably a felony.
Oh my god, what was I thinking? I should have run this by Thom.
He would have convinced me to drink some chamomile tea with some honey from Otto’s bees and rethink my life’s choices.
I glance around, looking for some kind of escape, deciding that Michael isn’t worth prison time. I wouldn’t do well in there.
I bet they’d end up exploiting me and making me be the jail interpreter. For free.
Fuck that. I already feel like the last ten years I worked for little to no pay. The schools and agencies I contracted with took far too much from my paycheck, and the driving. Oh god, the driving.
Here, there, and everywhere. I loved it at first, really. But after a while, I started to have panic attacks at the sight of my steering wheel.
Needless to say, I burned out. Big-time.
I needed a break back then, and right now, I need a break from whatever non-reality I’m living in.
I move toward the door, my hand landing on the knob, ready to flee into the night, when I hear a knock. Two soft ones and a harder one.
SilentEcho’s code.
My heartbeat is in my throat as I stare at the door.
The handle twists, and it’s pushed open, forcing me back. I attempt to make my way back toward the sketchy-looking bed, but my nerves, coupled with my hangover, have my legs twisting oddly, and I land on my ass instead.
My breath leaves me in a heave as I stare up at the man looming over me.
This has to be SilentEcho, the person who is going to sell me the TNT.
The one who will help me be rid of Michael once and for all.
“Leaf?” he rasps, and I wince, realizing I used my actual name online. Fucking hell. I suck at this.
“Maybe,” I squeak. “Maybe not.”
The man closes the door behind him and stands there, a sexy presence in this seedy room.
Good fuck. My eyes roam up his muscular legs, his narrow waist, and broad shoulders. His hair is slightly longer, curling around his ears, and he has a faint scar along the left side of his mouth.
He’s so damn hot. Like my pants are too tight hot. Like it’s been far too long kind of hot.
“You’re at the coordinates I sent, so you must be him.” I hear it then, the slight accent he has when he speaks.
Well, hell. He most likely is hard of hearing. I’ve worked too long in this community not to notice it.
“Fine. I am. You caught me. It’s me.”
I push myself to my feet, my hands moving as I speak. It’s a habit. When I think someone may not be able to hear me, I can’t help but do this.
His eyes flick down to my hands and then to my face.
“You know sign?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
I’m giving far too much away. First, my name, and now the fact that I know ASL. I’m such a loser. Michael must think so too. It’s why he doesn’t stop mocking me at all hours of the day.
The man wets his lips and runs a hand through his hair. “Right. That doesn’t matter. I have the product in the car.”
“Fine. Great. Amazing.” I swallow roughly and then stammer, my fingers flustered as well. “You’re not the cops, right? Like, I don’t wanna go to jail or anything.”
He peers at me, cocking his head. “No. Are you?”
I shake my head so hard that I fall slightly to the right, knocking into the stand with the broken TV. It wobbles precariously before falling right on my foot.
I howl as pain shoots up through my leg and into my dick. How my foot is connected to my dick, only god knows, but I swear my entire lower half is going to fall off. It’s no less than I deserve, I think. It really is.
“Alright, enough, enough.” He grabs onto my waist and picks me up, settling me on the edge of the musty mattress. “Stop making that sound. It’s hurting my ears. You sound like a donkey.” I gasp, holding back the baying I know I was making. “Come on. Let me take a look.”
I bite my lip, a whimper leaving my lips as he pulls my shoe off, his fingers touching my bare foot.
“Just cut it off. It hurts too much.”
I hear a muffled laugh, and my lips turn down.
“Don’t mock me. I’m serious. My entire lower half is numb. I think I may have suffered some kind of paralysis.”
“You’re fine. Trust me.”
His eyes flick up to meet mine, and we stare at each other for far too long. My cheeks heat that my broken dick perks up. Guess he’s right. I’m not paralyzed.
Or, at least, my dick isn’t.
“Can you stand?” he asks.
I shake my head. “You’ll have to leave me here to die.”
He snorts, his lips twitching. “Come on. No one is dying today.”
He pushes to his feet, his dick right in front of me, and I can’t help but stare at it. It’s big. Even behind the jeans, I can tell. Probably just like the rest of him. Bet he could break my back by throwing me around this room.
Break the bed too.
My hands slip into his, and I feel the calluses on the palms. With a small grunt, he lifts me, and I bump into his chest, my hands falling against his narrow waist. This close, I can smell him. Cloves and amber.
I inhale deeply, and he lets out a soft exhale.
“You smelling me?”
“No. Just breathing. Like humans do.”
He laughs at that and then takes a step back, taking me in. “Seems you’ve recovered from your paralysis.”
“Seems so. A miracle.”
He bites his bottom lip, making his scar stand out a little more, before wetting both lips with his tongue. Oh god. He shouldn’t do that.
This man is really terrible. He should never walk around in public. It’s a detriment to men like me.
“What?” he asks when I stare too long at his defined pec muscles through his shirt.
“Nothing. Just…nothing.”
He rolls his lips between his teeth and then nods toward the door. “Let me grab the product. You have the money?”
I nod and stumble to the duffel bag I brought in.
It has the cash I promised. I rip the bag open, and bills flutter out.
They’re not nicely lined like you get at the bank or see in the movies.
I found most of these stuffed under my aunt’s mattress.
They’re wrinkled, some folded in squares. One is even an origami bunny.
SilentEcho’s eyes move to the cash fluttering around the floor, and then he shoots his gaze up to meet mine. “Are you serious right now?”
“I am deadly serious. The most deadly. The deadliest.” I fold my arms across my chest and try to look stoic, but most probably look like I’m taking a shit.
He must think so, too, because he shakes his head and laughs again.
“What? Why are you laughing?”
“Because you don’t seem like some criminal mastermind.”
“And why not?” I’m insulted. I am the biggest mastermind. Or I could be if I had that damn TNT.
“You just…don’t have the vibe.”
“And what vibe do I have?” My signs are angry and rough, matching the tone of my voice.
He shrugs and then runs a hand over his cut jaw. “Chaotic, unhinged, maybe a little insecure.”
That ruffles my feathers. “I am not insecure. I am very secure. The most secure. Now, give me the shit I want to pay for.”
I fall to my knees and start scooping up the cash, shoving it back in the bag. It crinkles and crunches, the zipper breaking when I try to zip it back up. Damn thing. How old is this piece of shit?
My eyes start to water, and I swipe at them. This is all going sideways. I’m never going to get rid of Michael now.
Suddenly, I feel a presence settling in next to me.
“Hey, why are you upset?”
“Because I’m failing at life. That’s why. As you rudely pointed out, by the way. Out loud.”
“Sorry,” he says, then signs it. The first indication that he knows ASL as well. That my effort to make sure he had equal access to communication wasn’t a total bust. “How can I make it up to you?”
“By apologizing and telling me how hot and smart I am.”
He laughs and then quickly bites it back, leaning on his heels and assessing me. “You’re hot. I don’t know about smart though. Don’t know you well enough.”
My cheeks flame, and I look at him shyly through my lashes. “Well, I am smart, just so you know. I have a degree to prove it. And a job.” Well, I had a job. He doesn’t need to know that part though.
He grins and then wets his lips again. “Just not street-smart, it seems. You are meeting a stranger in a seedy hotel to buy explosives.”
“Yes, well, I need them.” When I say this out loud to another person, it makes me realize that maybe I’m not that smart after all.
“You should never meet a person like this, you know. You could put yourself in all sorts of danger.”
“Well then, what should I do?”