Chapter Six
Loren
“Consider my offer.”
To say Jasper’s parting words and malicious glare sent a shiver through me is an understatement. Despite the near hundred-degree temperature outside, my insides feel as if I’ve been submerged in a sea of ice. The hairs on my arms are on high alert, my eyes darting left and right, scouring the streets for something…anything…out of the ordinary.
But nothing in my life is ordinary now, not even my crappy part-time barista job. The one I’d taken to fly under the radar for as long as I needed, until by some miracle, my life could return to the degree of normalcy I crave. But that’s not about to happen.
I’m being hunted by an organization that has no value for human life and no tolerance for those who compromise their objectives. I’ve seen and heard too much, and the next logical step is for them to dispose of me. I’m not a naïve idiot. I know how shit works.
A thousand dollars for peace of mind. Until, of course, that prick Jasper decides he needs another chunk of change to keep his mouth shut. I’ll never be safe, no matter what I pay. And I can’t keep the toxic thoughts from creeping through my mind…what if Brax doesn’t come back? What if they’ve already found him? What if he’s—
My finger trembles over the keyboard of my disposable phone while I walk the few blocks to my apartment, keeping close watch of the people milling around me on the sidewalk. I need to talk to someone, to hang on to the single shred of sanity I have left. This is the fifth time I’ve tried to reach Taylor since we last spoke. I let out a shaky sigh and click End when the call goes to voicemail. Queasiness settles in my gut. Something isn’t right. I can’t leave a message, and my number comes up unknown, so she won’t know she’s missed any calls from me. But it isn’t like her to ignore her phone. It’s usually glued to her hand, or to her ass, when she’s working.
Unless…
I clamp a hand over my mouth to silence the sob deep in my throat. God, no. Please, no.
A cool breeze rushes over me as I pull open the door to the building. I climb the stairs, two at a time, tears pooling in my eyes. The sudden urge to scream is overwhelming. I want to yell, to pierce the air with the deep-rooted fear and angst that haunts my days and keeps me up at night, to weep for everything I’ve lost, and for the fear that eclipses my hope for any sort of a future with the one person I need almost as much as air, food, and water.
I grasp the knob and pull open the door, saying a silent prayer that Braxton’s smiling face will greet me from the inside. A sharp pang assaults my chest, my handbag falling to the hardwood floor.
“Hello, Loren.”
God evidently has other priorities.
“Wh-who are you?” My voice shakes, eyes widening as the muscular man shifts his weight and casually exposes the gun tucked into the waistband of his worn jeans.
He grins, exposing a row of straight, yellowed teeth. His black work boots clunk along the hardwood floor as he inches closer. He folds his beefy arms, and a whiff of stale smoke makes me gag. “Name’s Cox. Let me guess. Your pal Braxton hasn’t told you about me yet.”
“I d-don’t know who you’re talk—“
“Save it, sweetheart.” He leans in close and I press my lips together to keep myself from puking all over his dingy gray t-shirt. “He broke the rules, so now I’m here to make things right.”