Page 11 of Covenant

To the white rectangle that’s been shoved underneath it.

For a second, I’m paralyzed. Maybe a smarter person would run to the door and throw it open to try and see who delivered it.

But, let’s be real, it won’t be someone from The Firm. It’ll be some poor schmuck like me.

Maybe that’s what you’ll have to do. Delivering some mail won’t be too bad, right?

Something in my gut tells me I won’t get off that easily, that the price I’ll have to pay will be higher than even my greatest fears have anticipated.

Suddenly, I have to know. I can’t wait another second to learn my fate.

Ignoring Jackson’s questions, I shove back my chair. I grab the envelope from the floor and keep moving. I don’t stop until I’m in the bathroom, the lock twisted to keep Jackson’s prying eyes out.

Shaky hands turn over the envelope again and again. I lean back against the sink, letting the cold ceramic ground me.

It’s funny, how innocuous it is. Sure, the envelope is fancy. The inside feels like heavy cardstock instead of the cheap stuff.

But there’s nothing to suggest that whatever it is, is about to change my life. There’s no name on the outside. No address.

But there’s no doubt in my mind as to what it is. Who it’s from.

Steeling myself, I slip my finger under the seal. I curse as it cuts into my finger, a smear of red dripping onto the envelope.

I ignore it. I let it float to the floor as my eyes race over the contents. I read it once. Twice. Three times.

But still, it doesn’t make sense.

It’s short. Just two sentences, an address, and a date and time—ten a.m. tomorrow.

It’s the first part I return to again and again.

You have been selected to fulfill someone else’s request. Negotiation is not an option.

I let the card fall to the floor, realizing that it doesn’t tell me anything else. Just like before, my fate is in the hands of The Firm. And so soon too. I didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

But really, it’s worse than that because it’s in the hands of a stranger. Someone who needs something. Someone who, just like me, was desperate enough to go to The Firm.

Fuck.

I’m so screwed.

3

WYATT

The rustic building stands out against the gloomy, rainy street it sits on. An ominous thing. Dull brick and white shutters peer down at me as I make my way to the address that was on that dreaded piece of paper. I’ve never even noticed this building in downtown, but here we are.

The fate of my future lies within these walls.

I fiddle with a button on my shirt, feeling my nerves get the best of me. I stood in front of my bathroom mirror for ages, trying to figure out what to wear. I changed twice, feeling like a fraud the entire time. I have no idea what I’m walking into, so I didn’t know how to dress. So here I am, in the one outfit I used to wear as a lawyer, something from my past life. The one thing I kept.

I continue to play with that button and twist it so hard that it pops off and rolls onto the ground. I stare down at it and sigh in annoyance.Fuck this, I think as my hand reaches out and pulls the door to the building open. It squeals as I do and I clench my jaw, anxiety pumping through me as I make my way to the elevator.

Floor two.

As my finger presses the button, I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Like this isn’t real.

This can’t be real, but I hear the innocuous music filtering through the box as it brings me up to the second floor and realize that this is the beginning of the end. This is the beginning of my life indebted to The Firm.

---