Page 45 of One Kill

Dead leaves rustle under our steps and I’m very aware that this could be a trap, but I’ll never go down without fighting for my last breath. A trap is only a different word for showdown anyway.

With the cabin in view, the door just a few steps away, we’re all a lot lighter on our feet—it still amazes me how Shoo and Tab could ever be considered as light-footed with their bulky weight, but they’re fucking pros at this kinda thing. It’s eerily quiet, the only sounds now are the light raindrops trickling through the trees.

I hold my palm up, signaling for my crew to stop where they are so we can assess our surroundings. Nothing.

Gesturing for them to silently surround the small wooden cabin, I place myself right outside the only entrance and take a deep breath. The windows are all boarded up, so there’s no way to see inside. This is a total gamble and I’m ready.

I have a dagger in one hand and a gun in the other as I boot the door open—I might as well make an entrance.

Stilling in the doorway, I tilt my head in surprise, my eyes wide before a grin spreads across my face. What I find isn’t what I was expecting, and I’m still mad as hell that it’s not, but this will do to ease some tension. I whistle for my crew to join me, letting them know it’s safe to come inside. This isn’t a trap at all. It’s a fucking torture chamber for Riley Callaghan.

He’s hanging from a beam in the center of the room by his neck, a stool under his feet so he doesn’t suffocate to death and a rope around his wrists. A beautiful black eye that brings me joy to see darkens his face and there’s a gag in his mouth. As he eyes me, the old swagger I remember from years ago is trying to peek through.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here then?” Shoo laughs, circling Riley and flipping his own dagger between his fingers. “Boo!” he shouts in Riley’s face, laughing harder when he flinches, almost losing balance on the stool.

I scoff, and as much as I’d love to stay and play, we need answers.

“Remove his gag, Shoo.”

Using his knife, Shoo pokes at the gag, scratching Riley’s cheek a little as the gag is roughly dragged from his mouth. Riley spits like the dirty bastard he is.

“Jordyn O’Neill. I wasn’t sure if you were just a myth, ya know? Guess not.” He laughs, a stuttered and breathless sound that tells me he’s in need of water or a reprieve from the rope around his neck.

Flower is waiting outside, Tab stands in the entrance of the cabin, Binx moves to the far corner, and Shoo continues to circle Riley like a shark about to bite into his next meal. I take a step forward and rest a booted foot against the stool.

“Where the fuck is my daughter, Callaghan?” My tone is even, calm, nothing at all like how I’m really feeling inside.

“You mean the one you abandoned in a pool of her grandparents’ blood?” He laughs again, a single syllable that makes me want to slice him up here and now.

“Yeah. The one that gave me the determination to get my own revenge by killing your uncles.” I don’t need to explain myself to him, the situation with why I left Hallie is none of his business, but I did feel the need to throw a dig back at him.

Watching his eyes widen in surprise is satisfying, but it’s still not quenching my need for information.

“Where. Is. Hallie?” I say each word slowly, nudging the stool a little with each one.

“With her dad. Where else would she be? Do you really think I’d do anything to a girl who calls me uncle?” Just the sound of his voice is grating on my every nerve.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Call him, see for yourself.” His smug grin says he thinks he’s one-upped me, so I call his bluff, sheathing my knife and pulling out my cell.

It rings a couple of times before Murph answers.

“Hey, Jordyn. Call off the search. She’s with me.”

Before I have a chance to speak, he’s hung up, and I’m left feeling confused as well as angry. And why did he call me Jordyn?

“See? Told ya. Maybe take it as the hint Murph meant it as. You’re dangerous. Stay away from them.”

It all feels a little fucking off to me and I signal for Tab to take Binx for a perimeter check.

“You’re a bit cocky for someone who’s about to die, ya know.” Shoo rests his chin on Riley’s shoulder, making him wobble, off-balance with each word.

“You do know who I am, right? You’ll never get away with killing me. The mob is already gunning for your head on a platter, girl. Fucking thieving scum is wha—”

The echo from my gun shot rings through the cabin, no doubt through the trees outside too. A circle of blood begins pooling from the wound in the center of his forehead and I kick the stool out from underneath him to let the bastard hang. I’d love to have spent more time here, but something still feels off about this whole thing.

Whoever the texter is did a fucking good job, and I’ll shake their hand if I ever meet them, but this all feels like a wild goose chase to find my daughter who is apparently at home with her dad.

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