Page 114 of The Devil We Know

I hold my breath, straining to hear anything in the distance but coming up with nothing but that echo of silence. “No. Hear what?”

“Ssh,” he shushes me, so I go back to holding my breath and listening.

Then I hear a thud—a running cadence—and swiftly, it gets louder and louder until there's a crash from what feels like behind us.

And a new voice cuts urgently through the darkness. “I'm fucking telling you. I saw it clear as day with my own eyes.”

“You're fucking crazy,” another voice pipes in. “I put that fucker in the box myself.”

“Did you even know what the guy looks like? Or did you just put a guy in the box, and they said that’s who he is?”

There's a long stretch of silence as the steps get closer, and then, suddenly, a few pinpricks of light shine through minuscule cracks in what is definitely a concrete box. My heart rate picks up, and my curiosity is piqued to find out what the hell they're talking about.

Metal clanks, and then there's a soft whir of a motor, followed by the scrape of concrete against concrete. The top of the box shifts and groans, and then I'm squeezing my eyes shut tightly against the glare of light in the room.

Before I have even a moment to collect myself, hands are grabbing onto my shirt front, and I'm being yanked from the box, the two men heaving me up. They drag me a few feet and toss me on the ground, where I land in a heap.

I groan, attempting to open my eyes and, once again, immediately squeezing them shut against the pain of the light.

I catch a boot to the gut, and I choke, rolling over onto my front and wheezing to catch my breath as one of the men says, “Is that the guy you saw?”

“Yes, it fucking is,” he exclaims. “How can there be two of them?”

This time, the boot hits me in the thigh, and when I open my eyes, I manage to squint enough to see my surroundings clearly. I sneak a glance over my shoulder, getting a glimpse of the two men who should be old enough to know better. The older, dark-haired one asks, “What's your fucking name?”

I don't reply for a moment. I just look between him and his friend with what I'm sure must be a predatory grin.

Then the lighter-haired one stutters, “I do-don't know, man. We should just put him back in the box and let someone else worry about it.”

The dark-haired one scowls at his friend, then turns to me, bringing his foot back like he's going to kick me again, but just as he moves to slam his foot forward, I twist around and grab it. I don't wait for the man to get his bearings. I twist that fucker around with enough force that he comes right off his foot, the crack of the bone punctuated by his scream of pain.

As soon as he’s down, I leap on him, grabbing his head between both my hands and slamming it against the concretefloor without mercy. Once he stops screaming, I jump up, and I'm on the light-haired man before he can reach the doorway, snagging him by the back of the hair and yanking him off his feet.

He flies through the air a few feet, landing on his back, and I turn, shutting the door before strolling back to stand over him.

He stares up at me wide-eyed, fear etched into his features, and I tilt my head at him as I squat down, staring him dead in the eyes as I say, “It's the easy way or the hard way. You choose.”

47

From the Shadows

Matt

So far, pretending tobe Darius has been quite fun.

We decided our best course of action would be to split us up. It would be far more impactful to think there was a Darius at every corner rather than a pack of us in front of you.

Unfortunately, that meant the girls would be on their own, which was only problematic to us guys.

It only took a few minutes before people started obviously noticing me. At first, it was some passing glances and a fewwhispers, but after a while, I ran head-on into a man who jumped back from me as if he'd seen a ghost.

He took off with such haste that I figured it's safe to assume he had seen Darius recently.

We’re all in the general vicinity of each other, so I report my suspicions, knowing everyone will start heading toward my general direction. The spooked man heads down a side street, and I sneak behind him as close as I dare without the risk of being spotted.

I peek around the corner just in time to see him disappear into the side entrance of an old pub near the docks we’d been keeping an eye on, which is perfect given our end-game plans.

Knowing old buildings as well as I do, I recognize the likelihood that this building doesn't end at ground level, so I step back and send an update to the group on how to proceed.

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