Page 44 of Jump or Fall
“I’ll take it to the clinic,” he said. “Make sure it’s gone.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. Her way out may have been gone, but he was here.
He rested his head against hers, stirring something deeper—fierce, impossible to ignore.
Maybe he didn’t see her as a shattered mess of a person.
While she wavered between doubt and hope, one truth shone through the haze.
She would burn this entire city for him.
Chapter 16
Gordon - Four Years Earlier
“Why are you trying to be a fucking hero all of a sudden?”
“It’s just fucked up. I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“What are you, a fag? It’s the same shit you’ve always been doing here.”
“I didn’t sign on to help you catch new fucktoys. That was never the deal. Why is this such a fucking issue?”
“Because you can’t leave, Gordon.”
The room faded away. He was bound in a moving car with a cloth around his mouth. Paul stared out the window, tapping his knee while a man with silver fingers drove. Every breath Gordon took sent sharp pain through his side.
The car slowed, and Paul looked down at him. The streetlights reflected off his sweaty, bald head.
“Hey, be glad I talked them out of killing you.” He shifted in the seat and pulled a knife from his belt. The gleam of his head no longer held Gordon’s focus. He thrashed in his seat, trying to right himself.
“Unfortunately, they said I have to do it since I asked for leniency.”
Silver hands grabbed his head and pulled the gag from his mouth.
He yelled and squirmed as the blade drew nearer.
Gordon bolted out of bed and tripped on the blanket before crashing to the floor. He gasped as pain radiated up his shoulder. Slowly, he rolled onto his back.
Just anightmare.
Air from the fan sent a chill through him as it touched his sweat-drenched skin.
When will they stop?
He pushed himself into a sitting position and rested his head in shaky hands.
Once he regained control, he stood and used the wall as a guide to the kitchen. He downed a glass of water and tore off a piece of bread from the loaf sitting on the counter. The apartment had been fully furnished when he moved in, but all the knives were in a drawer blocked by a chair.
The bread sat heavy in his stomach as he made his way to the bathroom and turned the shower to cold. The shock of it distracted him from everything. He always tried to force down some kind of food after the nightmares, but the shower helped the most.
He rinsed away the layer of sweat, running through a mental checklist of possibilities for the task ahead.
There had to be a camera planted somewhere. It was just a matter of finding it. Enforcers weren’t strangers to bug detectors, but they weren’t as reliable in a heavily populated area flooded with tablets and other devices.
After his frigid shower, he returned to the kitchen. His appetite was sporadic, so he tried to eat whenever he felt a pang of hunger. He didn’t have much weight on him to lose and he’d already had to take his belt in an extra notch.
Maybe he would buy a load of protein shakes.
