Page 39 of Taking Root

“If I’m facing him down, it can’t be in a public place,” Danny murmured, picking up the cup of coffee and taking another sip. “Not only will that stir too much attention, but I can’t risk him trying to hurt an innocent in the process. He wouldn’t hesitate.”

Adrian’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “We’ve got to play this smart. The moment he arrives, the Feds need to already be on their way,” he said, swiping his pointer finger across the table as if sketching out a plan.

Danny’s brows furrowed as she homed in on the balloons decorating her mug.

“I’ve got it.” She shot up from the seat, almost knocking over her coffee in the process. “Feel like going for a drive?”

***

They pulled in front of Magnolia Courts apartments, but Danny’s limbs tensed at the sight. Even though she’d lived here the past month, the moment her father broke into her apartment, it ceased to be a home.

“I think I should be carrying the pistol, not the pepper spray,” Adrian complained, looking at the trusty device she’d handed him.

Danny quirked a brow. “And when’s the last time you got to the range, Romeo? Because I shoot center mass every time.” With all the stress of their fight and her father’s impending arrival, she’d been clocking in every spare hour at the shooting range.

Adrian leaned past her to his glove box, his hand brushing her leg in the process. She almost jumped, her nerves were so on edge. He paused and rested his palm on her leg, the warmth soaking into her skin. No wonder he’d become a doctor. The man had a magic touch, one that called her down from the cliffs she’d been climbing and one that showed her the way back.

He nudged open his glove box and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. “I’ll take this with me instead.”

Danny snorted. “Does the pepper spray offend your masculine sensibilities? Pass it over. I have no problem using it.” She squinted, trying to pick out her apartment window from where they parked. Not like she possessed the super-senses to see if anyone lurked inside. She hoped the Feds hadn’t decided to stake out her apartment yet.

Adrian flipped his knife out and back again, over and over as if possessed by the same nerves dominating her. “Is this what it’s like for you?” he asked. “Living every day like you’re going to war?”

Danny shrugged and slipped the pepper spray in her pocket. “It’s been like this for so long I can’t imagine what it would be like without the constant paranoia. If we manage to pull this off, maybe I’ll get the chance.” Even as she said the words, they dried on her tongue, hopes too forbidden to speak aloud.

Instead of allowing the creeping doubts to swarm, she opened the car door and stepped out into the midday sun. Beams glowed down on her, not penetrating to the chill inside. Shadows sloped along the sides of the apartment building, between cars, and in every window. She needed to strap on her armor and return to her former apartment, one she would be breaking her lease on if she survived the week.

“Are you sure the Feds aren’t already casing your joint?” Adrian asked as he joined her outside. His presence provided a relief she didn’t deserve. This wasn’t a game, and he had so much to live for—a job saving lives and a warm, chaotic family who loved him. Danny had the gum under her soles, and that was about it. If her father completed his aim and added her to his death count, she’d be lucky to get a casket. No one would remember the gardener who wandered from state to state, wearing different names and faces.

“I haven’t noticed my handlers poking around here,” she said, rolling her shoulders as they approached the walkway. “They don’t blend as well as they think they do.”

“You mean lurking around in cars isn’t normal? Well, there goes my Saturdays.” Adrian’s hand slipped into his pocket, his forearm flexing. Danny didn’t need X-ray vision to figure out he fidgeted with his Swiss Army knife.

“Who am I to judge your stalkery ways?” she teased, forcing herself to skate along the superficial even while her mind teetered on a ledge. She narrowed her gaze as she scanned the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything awaiting them. “Chances are, he won’t even be there.” She wasn’t sure if the reassurance was for Adrian or herself when they approached the entrance. “Broad daylight like this isn’t his style. He’d wait until night to make an appearance.”

Adrian cast her a sidelong glance. “Well, if he shows up now, he’ll make our job easier.”

Danny entered, the barks of neighborhood dogs and the buzz of mowers all fading into the background. The foyer crawled with silence, a familiar one of expectation. She clutched the paper in her hand, sweat from her palms causing it to wrinkle. The musty scent of old carpet greeted her when she approached the stairwell.

Each creak as she climbed the steps sent her nerves ablaze, like a persistent warning bell. She’d defied the rules and stepped into forbidden territory. Danny had never been more terrified in her life. She’d never felt more alive. In a few hours, the Feds would crawl through her apartment, searching for signs of her or her father. They might find this note, but they might not. She rolled the dice that Kyle Peterson would notice it first.

The gold lettering of her former apartment glared at her from the end of the hall.

Her throat dried, and Adrian fell silent beside her, brimming with the same tension. He matched her stride, and she didn’t miss how he moved in closer, as if he’d jump in the way at the first sign of danger. Not like she’d let him. At the end of the day, this was her fight, her tainted blood.

Danny reached for her pistol with her other hand, needing to clutch something to keep from shaking. She gripped it tight as she tugged it out of her waistband, the cool metal pressing against her palm. In her peripheral, she kept an eye out for any neighbors who might be milling around, but at this time of day most folks were working their nine to fives.

“I’ll get the door,” Adrian murmured, giving a nod to the pistol in her hand. He reached forward and tugged. Not like she’d bothered locking up after she abandoned it last night—her head had been spinning.

He reached forward and yanked the handle. The door creaked open, and Danny stepped in front, her pistol aimed.

Silence answered back.

Sunlight streamed in from her windows, casting fractals on the floors. Danny took a tentative step forward, leading with her pistol. Adrian kept a breath behind her, his shadow giving him away. Nothing stirred in her apartment, and with the windows wide open, only a sliver of a shadow existed.

She walked over to her nightstand, which contained a plethora of pens and papers scattered over the surface from the other night when she’d been making lists. This entire plan hinged on her father’s eidetic memory. A sloppier man would’ve gotten caught by now, but Kyle Peterson was a terrifying sort of intelligent whose recall for details had been something she’d grown up with.

Danny placed the sheet she carried onto the nightstand, even though it had grown a little grey around the edges. Adrian lurked by her open closet, his knife flashing under the sunlight as he peeked in.

Seventh birthday party.

That’s all she’d written on the paper. Any more information and the Feds might be able to piece her plan together. She’d celebrated her seventh birthday party at Cambria Creamery, one of the local ice cream shops in town. It had been loud, chaotic, and she remembered the time—eleven a.m. because she’d hand-written every single invitation. It also marked the first and last time they’d celebrated her birthday so publicly. Her parents had gotten in a fight, and afterwards, her father ditched them to leave town for a couple of days.

When she’d arrived back in Charleston, she couldn’t help but drive by the old building to find it abandoned, boarded up.

Which meant no innocent bystanders could get in the way when she confronted her father.

“Let’s go,” Danny said, leaving the paper behind and heading for the door. Adrian’s lips formed a thin line, and both of them buzzed in anticipation. Because in leaving the note for her father, she’d loaded a gun and cocked it.

Tomorrow, she’d pull the trigger.

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