Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Feenix Blaylock

I t didn’t take long to track down where the IT woman lived. After a few minutes of tracking the phone she’d been given, I arrived at this address. In the cover of darkness, thanks to it being four in the morning, the cool breeze licks at the tip of my nose and urges me to turn around and get back into my car.

I didn’t wear my leather jacket tonight. Instead, I opted for a hoodie and sweatpants, clothes I never wear in public because this isn’t a public visit. No one can know I’m here.

I can’t turn around and get into my car, however. She could talk, and I can’t have that, for my sake and for Charlie’s. Not until I figure out what is going on and fully understand the situation I now find myself in.

It was a two-hour drive to get here, and like hell am I going to make that drive not worth my while. What I have to do will take seconds, anyway, and I can make my way back before anyone realizes I’m gone .

The house is in the country, and the fall leaves skate across the gravel sidewalk that stretches to the house. Even though I can’t see it – because it’s so pitch-black that I can’t see shit out here – I can smell the fresh dirt from the fields.

In front of me, the two-story house is relatively dark, except for one room upstairs. The house could use some work. Yellowish paint peels off the wood siding, and the windows are so old that winter has to be a bitch. For someone who gets paid as much as she does, you’d think she’d have fixed it up by now. Maybe her priorities are not where she lives but, instead, in what she has.

Pulling my sweatshirt hood higher over my head, I step up to the porch and glance into the grimy living room window. As suspected, no one is in there. The screen door hinges squeal as I open it, and when I raise my knuckles to knock, a voice sounds to my right.

“Who are you?”

I look slightly down and to my right and see a camera angled at me. Naturally, she’d have the best tech. I should have known, but in the darkness and with my sweatshirt hood, there’s no way she can see my face.

“Open the damn door.”

“Ah, I’d know that voice anywhere. Password?”

“Open it, now.”

“As usual, you’re such an ass, Nixie. Just a second.”

A few moments later, from inside the house, I hear footsteps thundering down the stairs. A split second later, the door is opened, and a bright, skinny blonde is grinning before me. I don’t know what I expected, but I hadn’t thought she’d be so young. She has to be fresh out of college.

I guess that’s just too damn bad.

“Are you alone?” I ask, looking behind her and into the dark house .

She rolls her eyes. “I’m always alone. Why the hell did you drive all –”

I pull out my gun from the back of my pants, raise it, and shoot her in the forehead. My ears ring as she drops to her wooden floor at an odd angle, and I don’t stick around to watch the blood seep into the cracks. Instead, I put my gun back into my waistband, turn, and stride back to my car. I had already called one of my many addicts to pick up the body an hour into my drive. There’s nothing left here to handle, and when the job is complete, I’ll make sure the addict overdoses. Loose ends tied.

I’m protected. Charlie’s protected.

I glance over my shoulder once at the dead young woman. But she isn’t.

No emotions. There’s no place for them here.