Page 25 of Bottoms
“Just trying to get into his headspace a little better. I can’t quite see him as a killer,” I said, as if I had been busy contemplating that thought the entire time I had been up here.
“You ready to get that cheeseburger?”
I looked up at him, noting a few drops of blood on his neck, but he otherwise looked entirely normal. He wasn’t angry that I had left the room, and he wasn’t looking around to see if I had left a note with a sparse description of my location. The thought had crossed my mind before I wrote what I did, but it still didn’t change the fact that Fynn would just come for me over and over.
Either live in hiding with them for the rest of my life, or live in captivity with Fynn. Honestly, they both sounded almost the same. Except with Fynn, I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder, wondering where the boogeyman hid.
“No milkshake?” I asked, delicately untangling my feet to remove them from Colten’s desk.
Fynn sighed, like it was a major decision to see if I had earned one. “You can have a milkshake too, but only if you hurry. Need I remind you we are now sharing this building with a dead body?” He smiled after he said it, and I smiled as well. Happy that I would still get what I wanted.
Living with death made me unafraid of life, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to living the “normal” way anymore. I left Colten’s office with Fynn, leaving the last of my anger behind, with my note on the desk. The rules of survival told me I didn’t need to worry about everyone else’s feelings anymore. I just had to make it to another sunrise, and what I did during those in-between times was my one chance to experience life. Nothing else was guaranteed.
Colten
“Black.”
I was just putting the stopper back on the decanter when my phone rang. I considered letting it go to voicemail. Trying not to think about Nessa while we waited for another lead was impossible, so I threw myself into work. Now I was behind on at least three clients with court dates quickly approaching. Instead of working like I needed to, I was about to drown myself in alcohol until I passed out like I did every night. Curiosity made me look over to the caller ID and notice Tanner’s name instead of one of my clients.
“Her GPS bracelet was just used to open your office door. I’m en route with Mike, but you live closer,” Tanner said.
I hung up the phone and put it in my pocket while heading to the closet to grab my leather jacket and motorcycle helmet. I could get there in ten minutes.
Memories of Nessa roared back to life as I twisted the key in the ignition of my bike. Moving through my body along with the engine's vibrations as I twisted the throttle and sped out of the parking garage. Swerving into traffic, the cabbies honked as I cut them off. I weaved through the traffic like I was late to court.
Only this was vastly more important than a testy judge.
My heart pounded in my chest when I pulled into my parking spot. The tires screeched as I came to a sudden stop. I twisted the key free of the ignition and was off the bike in seconds. There shouldn’t have been any other vehicles at this time of night, but I noticed an empty SUV parked a few spaces down. My feet picked up the pace, knowing deep inside me that Nessa was here.
The trip to my office felt like running through a dream. No matter how fast I went, it felt like the hallways grew longer and longer. Standing inside the elevator as it made its unhurried trip up the floors, my hands shook with pent-up energy. The doors opened to the executive floor, and I ran through the halls before the ding sounded. My hand reached out to touch the handle to my office, but my feet skidded to a halt as I strode in and found the room empty.
No.
She was right here. I could practically feel her all around the room. Whispering that I needed to find her. Her presence seemed to grow thicker as I went over to my desk, touching the surface with my fingers. It was still warm. My thigh smacked into the corner of my desk in haste to get around it. She was still here somewhere.
I raced through the halls and back into the elevator. I had to endure another round of torment, waiting to sink back down to the parking garage level. At least the music was off at night, or else I may have pulled my gun and shot the speaker with how tense I was. My body was on the cusp of losing control, and my mind was focused on one thing and one thing alone.
Nessa.
My shined shoes slid on the carpet, slamming me into the door to the parking garage. My shoulder cried out, but I brushed the feelings to the side. She was so close; I could practically hear her voice. The door finally opened, and I burst into the dark space.
The black SUV was still parked a few spots down from my motorcycle. I pulled my phone from my pocket, noticing messages from Tanner and Nik. Asking if I had gotten here yet. Ignoring them, I turned on the flashlight instead, pointing it to the car I knew didn’t belong.
It looked like someone was sitting inside the front seat, but my feet moved slowly while a small alarm bell blared inside my mind. Something was wrong. I prayed to whatever gods were out there that might answer someone like me that it wasn’t Nessa in that car.
When I got close enough to see the person illuminated through the window, I sighed in relief. It was a man in his mid-forties. He was strapped into the seat by crisscrossing ropes, including one across his forehead. Patches of red stained the white button-up shirt the man wore beneath his suit jacket. A triangle of white sticking out of the top pocket of his jacket attracted my gaze, and I pointed the flashlight towards it. It was a note. I strode to my bike and grabbed my riding gloves from the compartment before heading back to open the door and see what Fynn had to say. I had been waiting for him to reach out, but a new wave of dread washed over me.
What if he was reaching out to tell me that she was dead?
The coppery tang of blood hit my nose as soon as I opened the door. I plucked the note from the dead man’s pocket and shut him back inside his temporary coffin. As I walked back to my bike, my hands smoothed the paper. I pointed the flashlight with my other hand to read the message Fynn left.
Take care of your woman, or someone else will.
My fist tightened around the note, crumpling it into my palm before I shoved it into my pocket. Fynn was just playing fucking games with us. But if he suddenly had time to play games, Nessa was no longer keeping him busy.
I looked up at the security camera and flipped it off. Knowing that Fynn would be the only one to see it. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I quickly pulled up the messaging app to redirect the other guys to my apartment rather than the office.
Someone else would call about the dead body in the morning, and Nik could watch the case for any other clues Fynn might have left.
