Page 21 of Irreversible

“So nice to finally make your acquaintance.” He reaches into the pocket of tailored gray dress pants, his hand brushing some kind of hourglass trinket attached to his belt loop by a chain. It’s nearly the size of a cell phone. Fucking weird. A driver’s license materializes in his hand. “Mr. Ford.”

Cool relief washes through my chest. Thank God I remembered to switch wallets before I left—my cover hasn’t been blown. And since I’m still holdingthatcard, I can decide how to play the rest until I know exactly what I’m up against.

My observation skills kick into high gear. I got careless with Dolph, but I won’t make the same mistake twice. Getting out of here is going to take logic and strategy, and that’s an arsenal I’vespent my entire career building. Keeping my breathing steady, I file the details in my brain like it’s an old-school card catalogue.

Fine wrinkles and white hair indicate he could be in his late fifties or sixties. His jaw is clean shaven, his grooming meticulous. The most striking attribute, however, are his eyes—one eerily light, the other dark as coal.

His build is slight, but I have little doubt what he lacks in muscle is made up for in cruelty. And though he’s dressed expensively enough to rival any respectable mafia kingpin, I believe he’s something else entirely.

Curiosity flares in his light-colored eye as he watches me as closely as I do him.

Do I show no fear or act predictably? How would a typical man respond after being drugged, beaten, and abducted? He’d be afraid for his life. Confused. Asking questions and begging to be freed. I consider that for a moment…

Unfortunately, my mouth does what it wants sometimes, so I cross my arms the best I can with the fucked-up shoulder and stare him down. “Wish I could say the same.”

With a hint of amusement, he lifts the card like it’s a proper cup of tea and reads the name and address of my cover alias with all the interest of a stranger’s obituary. “Our mutual friend, Dolph, tells me you’re a freelancer, eager for work.”

I blink my one good eye like I’m bored, internally seething at the mention of Dolph, whose skin I would like to peel away slowly.

“As it turns out,” he continues as though I’ve answered, “I’m a businessman, and I happen to have a job you’re perfect for.”

“Lucky me.”

“Oh, no, I’m most certainly the lucky one in this scenario.” Dollar signs are practically glowing in this man’s eyes. “So many candidates have failed to fit the bill. You, on the other hand… Well, my client will beverypleased with you.”

“Flattering, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.”

“And I’m afraid this isn’t a declinable offer, my friend. Apologies.”

“Got it. Who the hell are you again?”

“Oh yes, where are my manners?” Sliding my license back into his pocket, he lays one hand over his chest. “I’m the man who determines the amount of time you have left on this earth.”

“I thought that job was already taken. By God.”

He smooths his palms down a silver-pinstripe suit vest. “You’re in my domain; you live or die by my will. I’d say God is a fitting description, now that you mention it.”

“No, shit? That’s a mental disorder, you know. You and Charles Manson…deities in your own mind.” Disregarding the ache in my face, I force my lips to curl into a contemptuous smile. “In case you’re wondering, that never ends well.”

“Most people end up on their knees, begging for mercy sooner or later.” He looks so smug; I can’t wait to find out what it takes to rattle him. “We’ll see how long it takes you.”

“Since I don’t plan on reciting the Lord’s prayer any time soon, can you tell me what they call you onthisplanet?”

“Not today.” The mirth in his expression hardens.

“Ah, don’t feel bad.” I know I’m walking a fine line, but I can’t seem to help myself. “That can happen with advanced age. Let me know if you remember.”

“Dolph forgot to mention your delightful sense of humor.” Cocking his head, one side of his mouth rises as if he’s figured something out. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Sure, you do. Because of the God thing.” If I didn’t have broken ribs, I’d laugh.

“One doesn’t need omniscience to see murder in another man’s eyes. You think you’re going to be the one to kill me.” He takes one step forward, and I almost succumb to the temptation to rush at him and see if the chain will reach.

Almost.

But I know what will happen.

I ball my hands into fists, feeling the muscle in my shoulder twinge.

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