Page 111 of The Guy Next Door

ZANE

“How’s my shortking doing?” Leif asks as he enters my bedroom, where I’m getting all my things together.

“Almost packed for tomorrow morning.” I shove a plastic bag of toiletries into my backpack. The plan is to head to the ER in another hour.

“They’ll figure out what’s wrong,” Leif says. “And we’ll figure this out. Like I said, together.”

Leif was a better actor than I was when we were working through the script we’d prepped for Isaac’s benefit. But all that matters is he buys this shit.

Since I found the mic in the wall outlet, I’ve despised every moment in my room. It’s like Isaac is violating us. And it’s not only that he’s listening, but that we’ve had to perform like everything’s fine, even messing around because we agreed if we don’t, he might realize we’re up to something.

Fortunately, I don’t have to make up bullshit to talk about so we can sound “normal” since Leif’s catching me up about his last chat with his parents, who just docked in Antigua. I finish packing my things, including my gun. We’ve already been moving clothes and my computer monitors to his parents’ basement over the past few days, getting everything set up gradually so that if Isaac was watching from nearby, he wouldn’t notice.

The plan is: we head out like we’re going to the ER. Figure he could have surveillance nearby, so we’ll leave for a couple of hours, then circle back to the house. Leif will drop me off atthe old church outside the neighborhood. I’ll walk through the woods and meet him in his backyard, where he’ll let me in the basement.

My whole system is set up in his basement so I can watch outside over the next few days. It’s gonna be a long-ass week of waiting for our plan to work, tucked away in a basement with an air mattress, but it’s worth it knowing Leif will be safe.

“Well, get your ass over to mine tonight so we can enjoy the time we have left. I’m making lasagna.”

I growl. “I fucking love your lasagna.”

That’s probably the most believable thing I can say as I play nice, to give Isaac false confidence that everything is as he would expect.

“Now let me finish up, and I’ll be over in like ten,” I say.

“Sounds good. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Okay, this is also one of the more believable things.

Leif heads over to his place, and after I hear the front door close, I reach into my backpack and grab the case with my handgun, inspecting it. The reality is starting to hit me, like it did that night when I first met Leif.

I might have to use this thing soon.

“Great shot, kid,” Dad says, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You got an eye for this, my little soldier.”

I set the case back in my backpack and zip it shut, taking a last glance around my room. I’m gonna miss this comfy mattress.

I head into the hall, and as I start down it, I stop. The hairs on my neck stand on end. Something’s wrong.

I turn toward the guest bedroom across the hall from mine when I see someone bolt out.

I recognize the face immediately.

Isaac fucking Tolle.

I jump back, spin my backpack around, knocking him in the head with it so he goes flying against the wall, but he grabs it and pulls. I go with it and I’m all fists, slamming them against him, when he hits me in my gut.

Fuck.

My body trembles violently, and I realize he’s fucking got a stun gun to my shirt.

He throws me back against the opposite wall, and I try to get up, but my trembling legs send me back to the ground.

Fuck my goddamn fucking body.

When I regain my senses, I feel another jolt against my neck. Then another.

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