Page 105 of Crossover

“You’re here,” Daniel answered.

“I’m not coming inside unless I know you’re there.”

Daniel chuckled darkly, a sadness echoing through the notes. “You think I’m lying to you?”

“You think I believe that you just want to talk?”

“You think I’m going to kill you.” He was good, making his tone sound surprised and almost hurt.

“Crossed my mind.”

“I’m not.”

“Scout’s honor?” I replied, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons not to trust me, but I really do just want to talk.”

“Then, come outside. Here I am.”

“So someone can blow my head off? I think not.”

“Surely, you have eyes on me,” I said. “So you’d know I came alone. Try again. Come outside.”

“Grayson, perhaps you’re forgetting that I’m the one with the upper hand here. If you care about the safety of your family, you will come inside.”

My shoulders tensed.

“I’m not coming in there unless I know that you’re here. So, either confirm your presence or I walk away now.” I wasn’t going to risk my life even more than I already had unless my plan had a shot at working.

Daniel’s sigh was so loud, it almost vibrated my damn phone. After a few seconds, a flash of movement behind theFor Leasesign sent a shot of adrenaline through my fingers. Daniel’s face peeked out from behind it, vanishing into the darkness after we’d locked eyes for just a split second.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

A knot tightened in my gut, an inexplicable unease settling over me. Something about this felt off, a subtle wrongness I couldn’t quite pin down. My instincts, honed by years in the field, whispered warnings, urging me to reconsider, to turn and flee.

But the stakes were too high. Daniel could have a gun to Ivy’s head, to my family’s heads, with just one text. The only way to keep them safe was by taking Daniel down once and for all.

As I gripped the front door once more, a mental image of Ivy flashed through my mind. A nightmare, if you will, of her crying—hearing the news that I had been killed. I could see her hugging her mother, and I could feel her pain as if we were tethered together, sharing one heart.

Maybe it was the front door itself that was firing off my sixth sense. After all, Daniel had flashed his face so quickly, retreating into the shadows, probably to avoid getting shot, but what if it was to put distance between himself and an explosive?

I dropped the handle, a muscle ticcing in my jaw as I walked around the building, my gun at shoulder height, sweeping the space. My steps echoed in the alley, the night somehow growing even more silent as I finally approached the back door and prayed it was unlocked.

Its metal handle was ice cold as I slowly pulled it, the door opening with a loud creak that gave away my location. My muscles tensed, waiting for any evidence of a trigger—a wire, a thread, something to indicate this door might be attached to an explosive—but when I saw none, I swallowed one final time.

And slipped inside.

59

GRAYSON

I swept my Glock from left to right, mentally assessing the room and its potential blind spots.

The space, which was large enough to fit six cars side by side, looked like it had been in the beginning of a business’s buildout when it was abandoned. The interior walls were only partially drywalled, many of them leaking electrical wires and copper pipes, while the previous flooring had been ripped out, exposing a concrete slab that could echo my every move. Evidently, the electricity company hadn’t cut off supply yet, because a single bulb in the center made it impossible for me to hide.

A faint scrape of movement from the lone doorway across the room sent a jolt of adrenaline through my system. In one fluid motion, I pivoted, my weapon snapping to train on the shadowy figure emerging into the harsh pool of light.

Daniel.

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