Page 101 of A Breath of Life
“No. Best you don’t.” Not if Joshua knew Ace. My phone buzzed with an incoming text. “Memph, I gotta let you go. Don’t tell anyone about this conversation. Especially Joshua.”
“All right, but are you in danger?”
“No, babe. Nothing like that.”
“So there isn’t someone looking to kill you?”
I laughed. “Nah. Tallus dramatics. Nothing more.”
The last thing I wanted was to worry my best friend. Memphis seemed satisfied as we got off the phone.
I checked the text, but it was not from Diem. It was my mother with a ridiculous meme she must have thought was funny. I flipped back to the conversation with my boyfriend. My message had been read, but he’d chosen not to respond. Typical.
Frustrated and growing increasingly bored hiding in a bathroom, I texted my cousin.Ever heard of the Royal Whispering Ace?
25
Diem
My size had never worked in my favor. Scars aside, a man who towered over three-quarters of the population and carried the muscular bulk I did stood out, no matter how he dressed. My escape from the courthouse jacked up my blood pressure, but I did what I could to avoid looking squirrely. If my head was on a constant swivel, seeking danger, I would catch someone’s attention. My guilt would glow in the dark, and I was already taking a huge risk.
Dressed in gym clothes that were in dire need of a wash and with a ballcap pulled low on my face, I exited the government building from a side door. Rounding the building, I located the garbage bin and retrieved my knife, strapping it to my calf under my sports pants. If my suspicions were correct, Ace’s man would be camped out at the Jeep, waiting for my return.
I highly doubted he would wander far unless someone reported that the card showed me heading in a different direction. For the time being, the card was with Tallus, locked in a bathroom stall in alesser-used wing of the courthouse. If my headstrong boyfriend knew what was good for him, he would stay there.
I aimed first for the St. Michael’s Foundation building since it had tickled the hairs on my nape. Once clear of the courthouse and on a busier patch of road, I jogged. Nothing suspicious in the action. Tons of people in the city jogged daily. I was nothing more than a man out for his daily run.
My first stop, according to Google Maps, was a thirteen-minute walk from the courthouse. I closed the distance in under eight, slowing my pace as I approached the monolithic church structure. I spent enough time in the gym that I barely broke a sweat, and my heavy breathing quickly regulated.
Positioned across the street, I took in the exterior of the building. It perfectly resembled the photographs I’d studied online. The towering spires stretched heavenward, so high above, I had to crane my neck to see their peaks where they stood out against the pale blue sky. Arched stained glass windows glimmered in the sunlight—a prominent one in the center, positioned above the front doors, and a pair of half-sized twins on either side at ground level. The masonry was fitting. Old and weatherworn. Beige.
The main entrance consisted of a pair of intricately carved wooden doors. Two of them side by side. The style was similar, but they didn’t match the one from my memory.
I scanned the street before crossing and circling the property. The original beige brick crumbled in places, its once carefully constructed artistry falling to ruin. A wave of disappointment hit me when I got to the rear of the building and discovered a long stretch of scaffolding with a construction crew working on significant renovations. The beige stonework had been replaced with rusty red bricks and a more modern feel. The rear door, although vast, shimmered a metallic gold.A gaudy attempt at opulence. The wooden door from my mind didn’t exist. Not here.
Cursing, I jogged on, aiming for the basilica.
If I’d thought the foundation building to be vast, the basilica was immense. Same color brick. Same architectural style. Spires and colored-glass windows. A spiked wrought iron fence surrounded the property. Beyond it was a well-maintained patch of yard, statues, and planters. I immediately noticed the doors nestled inside enormous stone arches. Wooden, yes, but painted red with intricate black iron grilles on their surfaces. These doors were not carved.
A quick loop around the building revealed that all entrances had a similar design. The only one that stood out differently was not the one I wanted. This was not where I was held.
“Goddammit.”
As I tugged my phone out, intent on looking up other locations in the area, it vibrated with an incoming text. Tallus.
PS. You’d better be almost done. A man came into the bathroom a second ago, and it was not to pee. It could have been creepy Frank looking for a bathroom blowy, but I doubt it. Your little adventure needs to end now because I’m a sitting duck. Signed, not a princess or a damsel in distress, but definitely feeling vulnerable. PSS. I’m still mad at you.
“Shit.”
I checked the time. Forty-seven minutes had elapsed since I’d left Tallus alone in the bathroom. Too fucking long. I’d only intended to be gone twenty or thirty minutes. Instead of replying, I pocketed my phone and set off at a fast-paced jog toward the courthouse. With luck, I could be back to him in ten minutes.
My phone buzzed again halfway to my destination as I waited at a red light. Knowing my boyfriend, he would not let up until Iassured him I was on my way. How many times had he ranted about communication?
Figuring I would send him a quickOMW, I dug my phone out. It wasn’t a new text from Tallus. The name attached to the message read,Asshole.
My blood turned to ice. I darted a glance in every direction as fear crawled through my veins. Traffic zipped around me. Dozens of pedestrians rushed through their day. A man jostled me from behind when the light turned green and I didn’t go.
A man in the bathroom. I’m a sitting duck.
