Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Those are Alabama cave shrimp,” I enthusiastically explain, surprised at the familiarness of the moment. “They’re only found in caves in that state and are on the endangered species list, which is one of the big deals of the institute.” The DeJa’Vu sensation increases. “We primarily focus our efforts on rehabilitation, rereleasing, and reproduction with minor focuses on conservation and behavioral observation.” The tiniest flicker of movement appears around the corner pushing me to get the ball rolling. “Gahhhhh, I wonder what’s taking them so long with the delivery.”
Our code phrase immediately has Franken No Fun do his part. “I wonder if-” He abruptly pauses as if getting a call. “One sec.” The touching of his earpiece occurs but answers no one. “Holmes.” Another beat. “What do you mean you’ve been made Zandt?! By who?” He locks eyes with me, wordlessly announcing he’s about to step into the unseen. “Institute security knows you’re permitted to patrol the interior for-” Faked grumbles precede a deep sigh. “I can’t just leave my post because you don’t know how to do your job.”
Poor kid really doesn’t.
He actually might wanna switch career paths.
Maybe something with less acting?
“I can’t just-”
“Go,” I insist in feigned annoyance. “I’ll be fine alone for two minutes.”
“But-”
“I swear I won’t go anywhere.”
“But-”
“I literally can’t go anywhere until they make this delivery.”
“But-”
“The longer it takes you to leave the longer it takes you to get back.”
“Wes-”
“Never has to know…”
A playful wink shot in his direction pushes him to transition to his next point in the plan, leaving our suspect to finally unknowingly move into hers.
Very casually, I pace the small space, eyeball the creatures swimming around, check for discrepancies much like I did when I was just a guide, and reminisce on what I do remember from the time.
All of sudden, someone arrives beside me and quietly murmurs, “Keep watching the fishes like nothing’s wrong or I’ll jam this needle I’ve got into your tubby thighs.”
Rude.
“Good girl,” the woman I have yet to make eye contact with condescendingly retorts. “Now, listen carefully, because I know your security detail will be back any second.”
Technically, he hasn’t quite left.
“You’re gonna pretend I’m the delivery from K&T that you’ve been waiting for and that we need to head to your office because there was problem in transport. He doesn’t need to follow us. You’ll be fine. And you’re gonna stay pinned to my side like we’re best fucking friends to keep this little prick hidden. Got it?”
I nod split seconds before Holmes reappears, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I state just like I’ve been told, beverage switching to the opposite hand, “this is Emily from K&T. She was in charge of the delivery I’ve been waiting for.”
The woman nods yet avoids eye contact with him.
“There’s evidently a problem, and we need to head to my office to get it settled.”
“Okay, I’ll-”
“You soooo don’t need to follow me,” I brush off. “I’ll be fine.”
“Bryn.”
“I’m sure it’s only gonna take a quick sec.” My gaze motions down to the hand he can’t see, wordlessly informing him she’s armed, which I expected. “You can wait here.”
His eyes widen in worry. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Too bad I don’t pay you to think.”
The glare he twitches borderlines on being real.
“I pay you to follow orders.”
He prepares to reach for his holstered weapon.
“And I order you to stand down, dude.”
“But-”
“I said stand down,” is attached to not only a sharp twist in his direction but the jerking of my cup holding wrist.
The purposely loose lid to the still rather scalding hot beverage flies into the air while the fluid itself pitilessly splashes out onto her needle wielding arm forcing her to drop the object.
“Sonofawhoreeeeee!” she screeches as Holmes swiftly places the barrel of his pistol to the back of her wig wearing head.
Collecting the discarded, pointed weapon from its latte-based grave occurs quickly, yet jamming it into the side of her neck is executed even faster. “This was meant for me.” I viciously coo and inject the unknown mixture into her veins. “Let’s see exactly what it was gonna do…”
Chapter 22
Wes
I suspect whatever was in that needle was some sort of animal tranquilizer considering how long this woman has been unconscious.
On one page?
I’m grateful my wife saved us the time and effort of having to drug her for relocating.
On the other?
I loathe the idea that this could’ve been in Bryn’s system.
That she planned to inject her with whatever this shit is and take her to only Joker knows where.
Seeing the redhead woman finally coming to on the yacht couch across from me prompts me to exaggerate my next chopping motion to be much louder than the previous. The sound successfully startles her awake to the site of me menacingly holding a cleaver and smirking. “Evening, Jean St. Clair.” Another chop to the dead fish on the small wooden table in front of me is delivered. “Or should I say Catalina Masters.”