Page 125 of Lucky's Trouble

But I feel it, and until I resolve the issue, we’re stuck.

“Love you, baby.” I grab my balaclava and gloves before opening the door and taking one final glance up at my entire world.

She softens. “Love you too.”

* * *

The second I walk into the sleazy motel room on the outskirts of town, I strip down and take the hottest shower known to man. I’m frozen to my bones and need to thaw before heading back out. The sun was out all day, but even my winter riding gear couldn’t keep out the early spring chill.

Once I can feel my fingers and toes again, I dress in a new pair of black jeans, a gray tee, and a black ball cap, leaving my cut draped over the chair in the room. There aren’t a lot of people around here who look like me, so the only way to conceal my identity is by wearing average clothes and hiding under a hat.

I take a ride share to a car rental lot and pick up the nondescript sedan I rented under a false identity. From there, it’s a short drive to the light brick building that holds all the answers I need. Parking a few streets over, I quickly swap the plates with a set I stole off a similar car before leaving Reno.

After grabbing my backpack, I creep through the shadows until the building comes into view. Following the perimeter to the rear parking lot, I find the only vehicle parked there—a white minivan. His minivan. I know this because Satyr was all too happy to do some digging into him and the church building itself.

According to a Google calendar Satyr hacked, we found out he works late each Saturday, preparing for Sunday service. Normally, I’d do some surveillance to make sure he’s alone, but there’s just no time. It has me feeling a little uneasy, but not enough to change my mind about what needs to be done.

Satyr’s research told us that the only security the church has is an alarm system that’s triggered when the building is broken into, so I don’t have to worry about any cameras. It was good news, but it also meant if the door was locked, I’d waste time and increase my risk of being caught by disabling the alarm.

It’s a nonissue, though, when I give the door a push and it opens easily. I’m not surprised. Even though this area has seen a dramatic population increase in the last few years, the locals still have a small-town mentality, especially when it comes to the church.

I memorized the layout of the building, so I move easily through the darkened halls that smell of citrus cleaner and dirty gym socks, and I grin when I don’t burst into flames. Not that I wouldn’t deserve it after all the shit I’ve done.

The building is silent until I round the last corner, and the sound of a choir singing hymns spills into the hallway. Maybe listening to this shit is comforting to its parishioners, but shit, it gives me the creeps.

Knowing this will undoubtedly shake this entire community to its core has adrenaline coursing through me, making me feel like I just shot-gunned twenty energy drinks. Or maybe that’s excitement. Whatever it is, I’m hardcore buzzing.

I stop just beyond the fluorescent light that’s flooding the hallway from the office to remove my hat. I pull my balaclava over my face with my leather-gloved hands and place the cap back on my head. Not that I think he’ll be able to identify me from his place in hell but because I’m smart and don’t take unnecessary risks, especially now that I have someone waiting for me at home.

Taking one final breath through the knit fabric covering my mouth and nose, I stroll through the office door like I belong here. Leaning against the doorjamb, I fold my arms across my chest and wait for him to notice me from where he’s sitting at his desk, focusing on his laptop.

He’s an old bastard, with balding white hair that’s neatly combed and a clean-shaven face. He has hanging jowls and is heavily wrinkled, with deep grooves on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth. His suit coat is about two sizes too big, making the shoulder pads sit awkwardly and the excess fabric hang loosely.

Five whole minutes pass before he quickly glances up and then back at his screen, not expecting to see anyone there. It takes a couple seconds for the sight of me to register, but the moment it does, his body freezes and his eyes widen as he slowly returns his gaze to me. For a moment, I debate removing my mask so he can see how much I’m relishing in his response.

“W-what do you want? W-who are you?” he asks, placing his hands on the arms of his office chair.

“Just consider me the devil who’s come to absolve you of your sins.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid. It’s just you and me here.” I push off the doorjamb and stalk over to him.

He turns in his chair, not taking his eyes off me. “If it’s money you want, I think I have some cash in my wallet.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ money, asshole.”

“This is a house of God,” he says, seemingly more worried about my foul language than the masked stranger in his presence.

“Weird. I don’t see him anywhere.” I make a show of looking around and see him purse his lips in irritation.

“Just tell me what you want.”

“I want you to confess your sins to me, and maybe if you’re honest, I’ll let you live.” It’s a lie, but if someone knows they’re going to die, there’s no motivation to open up.

I know what he’s thinking as he stares me down. I’ve seen it a hundred times before. He’s preparing to deny any wrongdoings, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll admit to mild lies to pacify me.

Not giving him the chance to prove me right, I lean over, placing my hands over his on the armrest and looking him dead in the eyes. “I’ll do you a favor and clue you in a little. Tell me about Tinleigh.”

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