Page 93 of Fragmented Illusions
Our pretty girl doesn’t belong here.
She never did.
And if this plan is successful, she never will again.
“What if we fail, brother?”
“Then we will die trying.”
Spencer’s hand finds mine gripping the steering wheel so tight, it’s groaning under the pressure. He forces his fingers underneath mine until I release my grip. He then pulls my hand into his lap and rubs soothing circles along the back of my hand. I can’t feel his touch directly through the leather we are both wearing, but I can feel his heat. I can feel the way his touch always burns me from the inside out.
I take all of my fear and apprehension and shove it deep, deep down inside of me. I’m not used to feeling much of anything, and all of these emotions are choking me, spinning me out of control.
I need control. It’s time for me to take it back.
I drop my gaze to the glowing clock on the dash. The time reads nine o’clock at night. Too late for visitors, but early enough it won’t be odd to see people milling about. And we need to try to get in and out undetected.
“Let’s go.” I step out of the car and into the blistering cold. The wind whips around, stirring my hair. The car door thuds shut, and Spencer comes around to the front of the car, then we’re walking towards the front door together.
Once the front doors are within twenty feet of us, I find myself readjusting my name tag and straightening my clothes. Spencer does the same. I glance around, feigning nonchalance, and my face itches in awareness that every camera is catching our faces.
It’s the oddest feeling, not having my mask on. I have always worn it for everything I have done, but now we’re not because we can’t exactly sneak in here undetected with white masks cloaking our identity.
Fallon will finally see our faces and as terrible as the circumstances are, I think I’m ready.
I trust her. I know she didn’t put herself in here. She wouldn’t have done that—not after everything we have been through together.
The white framed glass doors slide open as we near them, and we step through into the brightly lit lobby. The floors are bright white and polished so much they appear to be almost reflective. They fucking hurt to look at, so I bring my gaze up, but the walls are just as white, only an occasional piece of art scattered about.
“What the fuck is this place?” Spencer grumbles. I ignore him as I take a quick glance around. The front desk is to our left, and there are two people, but their backs are to the door. It seems like they are filing papers, so I nudge Spencer and we quickly duck down the closest hallway, getting out of sight.
I keep my eyes peeled every step we take. Spencer keeps his eyes locked behind us as I watch our front. When I got the idea to make name tags for me and Spencer, I had to dig into the facilities programming.
It was difficult, but nothing I couldn’t do. While I was figuring out their system and stealing two of their employees’ entrance codes, I was able to figure out where Fallon is. Well, not a room number, but a floor.
She’s on the fourth—immediate psychiatric treatment.
They want to pump her so full of medication, she becomes a living fucking zombie. I can only hope Spencer and I aren’t too late.
We can’t be.
We have to save her.
We find the stairway at the end of the hall, and I swipe my card in the card reader, holding my breath until it flicks green and clicks open. I hold the door open for Spence and I follow, closing the door as quietly as I can behind me.
We race up three flights of stairs until we reach the fourth floor. We are barely out of breath as we step out onto the fourth floor.
I guess carrying and burying bodies has its perks.
This floor is quiet—eerily so. We step quietly, but quickly down the hall, keeping our eyes peeled for anyone.
“I need to find a computer so I can figure out where Fallon is,” I whisper, and Spencer nods in acknowledgment. I walk ahead of him, in search of one. We turn down the next hallway, and about halfway down is a little enclave with two computers.
I freeze and stick my arm out so Spencer will stop with me. My heart thumps rhythmically in my chest as we watch and wait. After a couple minutes of not seeing anyone, I tell Spencer to stay there, and then I hunch over and dart to the closest computer. I tap the keyboard and it wakes, immediately asking for login information.
I pull out my keycard and the computer beeps as it scans it, logging me in. I heave out a breath of relief as it comes to life, automatically logging me into the system. I type in Fallon’s full name and my heart nearly explodes when her file pops up.
All of these emotions charging through me at once are too much. I don’t know which one to focus on, or even what’s what. My hands shake as I stare at Fallon’s name, apprehension wracking through me.
