Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“I don’t like this,” Nix says softly, leaning back to look into my eyes. “I don’t want you talking to him. Can’t we just ignore him?”
“And what?” I ask. “Wait for him to strike again with no idea what he wants, what his plans are, or where he was last? No, we can’t do that.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“All of this is dangerous, and it’s given that you’ll have security now,” I tell her, my tone brooking no argument. “That’s nonnegotiable.”
“Not dangerous for me.” She pokes her finger in my chest. “I’m worried about you.”
“I have security, too, and I’m not afraid of him.”
“Oh, and your security is so much better than Owen’s was?”
“Frankly, yes,” Grim says, frowning and pulling at a small wire. “Because I manage it.”
I would laugh at Grim’s arrogance if there was anything remotely funny about this situation, which is life and death.
“I wouldn’t trust the government with my goldfish,” Grim says.
“You have a goldfish?” Lennix asks.
“Theoretically,” Grim says, glancing up at her.
“That’s a shame,” Lennix says. “I was trying to envision you going home to lovingly feed a few betta fish.”
“Aren’t those the ones that eat each other?” he asks.
“Exactly,” Lennix returns.
He rolls his eyes, but one corner of that hard mouth tips up. He’s stingy with whole smiles. Half is usually about as much as you’ll get.
“I think he likes you,” I whisper in her ear.
“How can you tell?” she whispers back.
“He hasn’t shot you yet.”
I chuckle at her wry look, the sound rusty and unused in my throat. To feel anything other than immense grief seemed impossible when I woke up this morning, rehearsing my brother’s eulogy. And I’m nowhere near fine, but having Nix with me makes everything feel a little better. I knew it would.
I sit on the couch alone when I call, Lennix and Grim seated across from me. Grim has a set of headphones on and some sophisticated-looking equipment in front of him to trace the call as best we can.
“What do the police say about all this?” Lennix asks, right before I start dialing.
“We’re not exactly telling them yet,” Grim says. “But we will after this, under certain conditions. Mainly that they not go telegraphing our every move and generally screwing everything up.”
“But we want all the resources involved, right?” Lennix asks.
“We want the resources we want involved,” I say. “And the ones we don’t need to stay the hell out of our way.”
Lennix still doesn’t look convinced, but we’ll have to have this discussion later.
I dial the number. On the fourth ring, he picks up.
“Maxim?” A familiar voice is broadcast in the room. “Is that you, man? I assume so, since no one else has this number.”
“It’s me.” I try to keep my tone clear of the hatred and resentment corroding my insides.
“Sorry. I was in the shower. Wouldn’t want to be less then presentable when the cops arrived after you trace this call.”
“What do you want?” I ask, ignoring his bait.
“You don’t sound surprised to hear from me, which surprises me, since you and your Robocop shot me four times and left me to drown.”
“Oh, we came after you. We thought you were dead.”
“So did I, Cade,” he says, with affected wonder. “So did I, but these nice natives helped me when I washed up on shore. Ya know, I find indigenous people to be so kind. It’s really a shame how we’ve treated them. Speaking of, how’s my squaw?”
I don’t trust myself to answer. Nor do I even look at Lennix, though I feel her gaze riveted to my face. I hazard a glance at Grim, who mouths, Stay calm. Keep him talking.
“What do you want, Gregory?”
“Ahh. Look at you, doing your homework. I guess you used my dead brother’s DNA to figure out my name, huh?”
“Yeah. That’s how we did it.”
“It wasn’t enough that my mother died because of the shitty systems America calls democracy and capitalism. You had to go and take the one thing I had left worth caring about in this world. My little brother.”
“He held a gun to her head. I had no choice.”
“And you’re so fiercely protective of the ones you love, aren’t you, Cade? It must have torn you up inside when someone got to your do-gooder brother.”
I swallow a growl, close my eyes, and beg for patience.
“Funeral was today, right? I saw your speech on television. Nothing to fear. Who are you? Fucking Franklin D. Roosevelt? Of course there’s shit we should fear. Things you should fear. You should fear me.”
“I’m not afraid of you, you demented piece of shit.”
“Oh, but you should be. Look what happened to poor Owen. I had this entire speech planned,” he says, regret in his voice. “You ever seen Princess Bride? What am I saying? Everyone’s seen that movie, am I right?”
I don’t reply but let my rage simmer.