Page 107 of The Games We Play
An uncontrollable chuckle radiates from my chest.
Poor Whitlock probably has no idea what to do. Because I’m actually smiling. Smiling, ear-to-ear, while on the verge of a laughing fit in the middle of a kill mission.
His eyes say it all as they bounce questioningly around the room and over to Miller.
Miller squints to see our silhouettes hiding in the corner, and shakes his head with a tight lipped smile.
Kicking himself off the back wall, he walks past the cell in front of Nathan. “Well, shift change,bro. Can’t say it was nice chatting with you.”
“Wait, what? Where are you going?” Nathan stands, wrapping his fingers around the cell door as he presses his face between the bars. “Aren’t you taking me to the courtroom soon?”
“Nope. Good luck,” he singsongs to Nathan as he pats me on the shoulder passing by.
“I got the front,” Miller whispers to Whitlock, rounding the corner to keep an eye out.
Walking out of the shadowed corner, I step into the light.
My eyes fixated on nothing but him.
“Hello, Nathan.”
46
SEAMUS
He trips on his own foot as he backs away from the bars. Squinting, with a look of fear in his pale eyes, he quickly covers it up.
But, I already caught it.
He’s terrified, as he should be.
“Well if it isn’t my old friend, Semun,” he says, faking confidence he doesn’t have.
“I am far from a friend to you,” I say as I lean up against the bars, peering into the small cell encasing him.
There’s a three foot bench that lines the back of the cement wall, with a metal sink and toilet built into the far corner.
I can work with that.
“Everyone is a friend inside these walls, when you know the sort of people I know out there.” He tips his chin to the exit door, like that’s the only barrier between him and freedom.
I gesture to the keyhole as I glance at Whitlock. He tosses the keys to me and I slip the key in chasm and twist, unlocking it. The sound echoes off the cement walls and vibrates through the room.
He glances at the opening then to me, stepping back, as I step in.
“I have money. I have connections?—”
“You have nothing I need,” I calmly interrupt him, as I step toward the bench, pushing my weight into it to test its strength.
That’ll do.
“Seamus, look…”
“Oh, now it’s Seamus?” I huff out a chuckle.
He swallows audibly.
Maybe it was my laugh. Maybe it’s my calm demeanor. Maybe it’s sunk in that nothing he can say or do will get him out of this cell alive.
