Bonus Chapter #2
A for-hire unaliver just like me? Well shit. That’s a new one. “Morgan is top tier at evasive maneuvers, going off the radar, and is a talented assassin. You need to be clear, together, and fully prepped to take him on. Do you have your materials with you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, thinking of my small arsenal of handguns and set of six custom-made all black Damascus steel hunting knives sitting in their case in my duffle bag just upstairs.
“Good. But more than that, Pearson, you need to have your head on fully straight. No ego, no distractions. Morgan is hunting something or someone, and we don’t yet know what it is. He will be unpredictable.”
Huh, I think, just my brand.
“Got it. Understood. I’ll read over the debrief from Li and wait for the green light.”
Simmons hesitates a moment.
“This is your official green light, Pearson. If you find him, take him out.”
“Yes, ma’am.” And I hear the line disconnect.
Seconds later, I feel my other cell buzz and pulling it out, I see that Li has emailed the debrief package. Background info, pictures, known aliases. Ninety-seven pages. Damn. Well, it looks like I have my plans for tonight all set.
I download the file and hustle back up to Kat’s room.
Striding up to her room’s open door, I see that she is fast asleep, and Zayn sits there hunched beside her, like a statue.
I pause and just watch him for a beat in the doorway.
His body is still, but his thumbs trace over the delicate knuckles of Kat’s hands.
There is such tenderness in his touch. His piercing blue gaze doesn’t leave her, and I feel again that sharp twang from somewhere deep in my chest, behind my ribs.
“Doctor said she can come home in a couple of days,” Zayn offers, his back still to the doorway, as if sensing I’m here.
I clear my throat and step into the room fully. “That’s… that’s great,” I chirp, trying to shake off the awkwardness of being caught watching him.
He stays perfectly still, turned away from me.
“I love her, you know. I love her so much.”
I relax a little, leaning my body against the doorframe. “I know,” I reply quietly. And I do.
____________________
I peer at myself in the mirror and for a second, bristle at what I see.
Kat and I share the same straight nose and wavy, ebony hair, but where her eyes are a warm mahogany brown, mine are a startling hunter green.
The deep green hue always seemed almost unnatural against the stark contrast of my dark hair and fair skin.
For some reason I just… I never looked right to me.
Like all my pieces didn’t quite fit together somehow.
It probably doesn’t help that my green eyes also happen to be his eyes.
Lachlan fucking Pearson’s. I don’t want to have his eyes. I want to have my own.
Finishing up washing my hands, I shake them off in the sink and swing the restroom door open to head back to Kat’s room. I stride over the threshold and see Zayn laying with her on her hospital bed. His massive frame squeezed in next to her would be almost laughable. If it wasn’t so goddamn sweet.
“Hey,” I start, breaking the quiet of the room. “There are some reporters camped out in a van in the parking lot,” I inform them, as I slide onto the uncomfortable couch situated under the window. I had spotted them during my last cigarette break downstairs.
“Fuck. Again?” Zayn murmurs, lifting his head and moving to look out the window for himself.
“Well, can you blame them?” I retort. “They all want to be the ones to deliver the inside scoop on the infamous escape and murder of the Demon of the PNW.”
I notice Kat flinch when I say this, and a pang of instant regret thrums through me.
“Sorry,” I say. She gives me a soft smile in return.
“It’s okay,” she offers, pushing the button on her remote to raise herself to a seated position.
Feeling the need for a change of subject, I ask again about Pearson House to clarify what exactly Kat needs when I go by. I also inquire about her fucking cat and what exactly he will need from me.
To his credit, Zayn has not left Kat’s side since the moment he had rescued her from that well. Which means that I had become the de facto gopher of our little trio—responsible for getting everything from food to non-gross hospital coffee, to now, being Bundy’s caretaker.
Bundy, I think wryly, stupid ass name for a cat.
This would be, however, my first foray back to Pearson House. I gnaw at the inside of my bottom lip.
Zayn offers me his car to use again and tosses me the keys.
He also hands me a neatly written list of things to collect from Pearson House.
It consists mostly of clothes for Kat, some hygiene essentials, a few books, and her e-reader.
Zayn’s neat little script, written in black ink, is in all caps, every letter perfectly proportioned to one another.
Serial killer writing.
Though, I am grateful to have the list and the chance to leave this stuffy hospital room for a hot minute.
I kiss my sister’s forehead, knowing however begrudgingly, that she is in very good hands, and I head back downstairs.
____________________
Both windows are fully down as cool air and mist swirls into the car. I breathe in deeply and inhale the scent of damp air, pine, and cedar.
This car handles like a fucking dream, Jesus Christ.
The tires grip the curves of the road, and I find myself accelerating through the consecutive turns as I wind my way closer and closer to Pearson House.
Pulling up to the long driveway, the looming form of Pearson House reveals itself to me.
I exhale a long breath as I approach and notice that Kat kept the gothic style wainscoting intact.
The fresh inky paint on the exterior glistens and sparkles in the rain, giving the house an almost enchanted quality.
Well done, Kitty Kat.
I flip a quick three-point turn so the Beemer is facing out the correct way to exit the driveway.
Killing the engine, I get out and look up at the house.
Damn. I could not live here full time. I don’t know what Kat was thinking.
It looks like a modern, well-kept haunted fucking house.
A little shudder runs down my spine as I grasp the large brass house key and make my way toward the front door.
I don’t bother locking Zayn’s Beemer. No one ever comes out here.
Entering the house, I am greeted with the familiar scent of Kat’s perfume and the candles she’s always so fond of burning. Then, I am greeted with an unfamiliar sound. A loud, piercing meow that cuts through the quiet of the house.
“Well, hey you,” I offer the small, black feline. “I’m Rae, and I’m here to feed your ass.”
He stops in the entryway and sits, eyeing me with a discerning stare. His bright green eyes are like lasers in the darkening house. Bending down to give his head a small pat, I pull the folded note from Zayn out of my back pocket and get to work.
Once I finish gathering up Kat’s items, and Bundy has refreshed food, water, and litter, I wash my hands and plop down on the couch for a minute.
My work cell buzzes, and I pull it out. I had spent all of last night and well into the wee small hours of this morning pouring over all of the debrief info that Li had sent over on Target One.
A text informs me that Target One was spotted an hour ago in Vancouver. Ha. So he is indeed moving north, just like Li had anticipated. I pull up my map app and see that Vancouver is only about two hours away from Greenwood.
No time like the present.
I decide quickly that I will finish up here, bring Kat’s shit back to her, and move to meet this fucker on the road.
Maybe Zayn will even let me keep the car, I think.