Page 93 of Deliver us from Evil

4-2-1-1

There’s a soft beep.

I go to my knees, laying the book on the carpet so I can open the little safe’s door so I can look inside.

A floorboard out in the hallway creaks.

I spin around, my heart climbing up my throat, and stare at the study door. But no one emerges from the hallway after a few ridiculously long seconds.

Jumping at ghosts. Or is it shadows?

I swear, if one of my men come in here because they think I can’t look after myself for one second…

There will be hell to pay.

I shake my head and go back to the safe. Open the door.

A stack of hundred-dollar bills. Three sturdy envelopes.

The first envelope has a small thumb drive in it. I take it out, tuck it between my breasts.

Should have brought my purse, but I guess my bra will do for now.

The second envelope has a passport and some folded papers inside.

I open the passport.

Frederick Dalton.

I frown at the passport photo.

Who the hell is—

There’s another creak, louder, right behind me. I whirl around, a hand to my chest. My cheeks flush with anger. “I told you to wait in the…”

But it’s not Reuben. It’s not Cass. It’s not Zach, or Apollo.

It’s a middle-aged woman I’ve never seen before, and she’s smiling at me.

Which is fucked up, because there’s nothing friendly about the gun she’s pointing at my face.

Chapter Thirty-One

Trinity

Scream, Trinity, scream!

But my lungs are frozen with shock. I’ve never had a gun pointed at me before—not one I was aware of anyway. It’s more chilling than I’d ever imagined. So malicious. So…impersonal.

The fact that it’s a woman holding it doesn’t matter. Her eyes are as cold and heartless as the gun’s gleaming exterior.

She’s dressed in jeans and a faded suede jacket, boots up to her knees. With her auburn hair pulled into a tight ponytail and a large handbag hanging from her shoulder, she could have been just another person walking past on the street.

Instantly forgettable.

When my lungs thaw enough for me to consider yelling out for the Brotherhood, three men walk into the study.

One has his gun aimed at me. The other two have theirs tucked in their belts.

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