Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“You are talking to her,” he says, voice going sharp. “Listen up, Poe. You were supposed to stay useful. Stay calm. Keep your pretty little vigilante buddies chasing their tails like good dogs. Then you got all sentimental at that warehouse. Now everybody’s awake and sniffing around.”
Sentimental.
The word lands like a slap. I almost laugh, bitter and hollow. If these assholes knew how little sentiment I have left in me, they’d be embarrassed for even using the word. I’ve buried that shit deep.
“What do you want me to do?” I repeat, pushing the gurney forward again once the coast is clear.
“Finish it,” he says simply. “Complete the misdirection. Pull them away from Goldenbell. Tear Maddox Security apart from the inside. Make them fight each other. Make them doubt every single person on their team. Keep their eyes off our shipments and our buyers.”
Shipments. Buyers.
The words hit like ice water down my spine. My stomach rolls with nausea that has nothing to do with the antiseptic hospital stink.
“You already pinned the hack on me,” I say, voice flat as I can make it.
“Good boy. That part worked perfectly.”
Of course it did. They want me wearing the blame like a shiny new collar. They want my best friend, Ozzy looking at his own crew sideways. They want the whole Maddox machine eating itself alive from the inside out.
They want doubt. The one thing no team survives.
My fingers curl tighter around the gurney handle until the metal bites into my palm. “If my friends die because of this, you die.”
He laughs again, softer this time, almost amused. “Your friends are still breathing because I allow it. Your sister is still breathing because you’re obeying. Don’t get it twisted, kid. Leverage isn’t friendship.”
Enley whispers again, barely there. “Poe… please.”
That word slices right through me. Please. From my little sister who used to beg me to play video games with her until three in the morning.
My throat tightens until it hurts to swallow. “En, listen to me. Stay quiet. Stay steady. Do not fight back unless you see a real opening you’re one hundred percent sure of. You hear me?”
She makes this tiny, broken sound that I know means she’s nodding even if she can’t say it.
The man tuts like he’s scolding a puppy. “Aw. Protective big brother. Cute. Here’s the deal. You deliver the package. You follow every instruction to the letter. You keep Maddox looking at you instead of us. Then maybe you get your sister back.”
My pulse jumps hard. “When?”
“When we’re satisfied.” He pauses, letting it hang. “Oh, and Poe? Don’t get clever. Try to play hero and Enley’s throat becomes a very public lesson.”
Heat floods my vision. I squeeze my eyes shut for one hard second because if I don’t, I’ll do something stupid right here in this hallway. Stupid gets you dead. Dead men don’t save their sisters.
“What package?” I manage, voice rough as gravel.
“The man on your gurney. We’re not done with dear old Arthur yet. He knows things. Serafina wants to look him in the eye while she decides if he gets to keep breathing.”
Serafina.
The name drops like a lead weight in my gut. I’ve never met her face to face. Only whispers. Shadows. Trails that go ice cold the second I get close. I’m damn good at finding people. Serafina? She’s a ghost who makes ghosts look sloppy.
“You’re bringing me to her?” I ask quietly.
“Maybe.”
My grip tightens until the gurney creaks. “If I do this, my sister walks free.”
“Sure,” he says, way too casual. “And maybe you get to keep your hands. Everybody wins.”
Enley’s breathing comes shaky through the phone. Part of me—the sick, broken part that still tries to joke when the world’s on fire—wants to crack something dumb like “I’m pretty attached to my hands, thanks.” But I know better. Jokes get people killed right now.
“Let me talk to her again,” I say.
He sighs, annoyed, but the line shifts. Chair scrapes. Fabric rustles.
Enley’s voice comes back, closer. “Poe, I’m here.”
My chest squeezes so tight it actually hurts. “Are you hurt?”
Silence. Then she lies, and she lies so badly it breaks my heart. “I’m fine.”
Rage burns behind my eyes. “Don’t do that,” I whisper. “Don’t lie to me, En. Not now.”
Her voice cracks. “I don’t want them to punish me for making you mad.”
I swallow hard, tasting bile. “Listen. I’m coming for you. Just hold on.”
The man cuts back in. “No, you’re not. You’re obeying.”
I grip the gurney harder and force my voice steady. “Where?”
A text pings through. An address. Industrial block near the river. Just a number for the building. No name. My skin crawls.
“Thirty minutes,” he adds. “You’re late, we take something off Enley you can’t put back on.”
The line goes dead.
I stand there in the dim alcove for a long second, breathing through my nose like I’m trying to talk down a rabid animal. Then I move.