Page 10 of Convict's Game
It took a solid twenty minutes until she reappeared, this time in the upstairs room, visible to me on the wide lens. Alone, she perched on the bed, her legs bare under that same oversized hoodie, the picture of a vulnerable lass.
Was she waiting? The car dropping her off felt like she’d been delivered to this…whatever it was. I hadn’t caught sight of who she’d met.
Dead certainty consumed me, and I wheeled my chair back to raid the desk. From a hidden drawer, I collected a knife, then a skeleton print bandanna from the cabinet. If I could get a phone and borrow a car, I knew exactly what I was doing this evening.
Leaping with both feet into my assignment.
I’d find out who she was, either by remembering or simply asking. The only way to be sure was to go to her, and if I was lucky, she might have something to say about me.
Chapter 3
Mila
Nerves crawled through my stomach, still rising from my rush of panic at coming here. I’d nearly bottled it. Nearly turned around and run the other way.
But Mama didn’t raise a quitter. I had to see this through, even if it meant being terrified for a few hours until it was all over.
From elsewhere in the run-down building, music buzzed, loud enough to pick out the track and concealing the sounds of any other people, though I knew someone had to be here besides the low-level grunt who’d shown me in. This was the time and the place. The organiser would arrive, tell me how this would go down, and I’d play the eager, naïve girl I was supposed to be.
After that, when I had what I needed, I’d run like the wind.
Perched on the bed, I ran my fingertips over the hem of my hoodie, clamped tight across my thighs. As instructed, I’d brought nothing. No phone, no ID. My only item of any value was a necklace I couldn’t bear to be parted with—the initial ‘E’ in diamonds on gold. A twenty-first birthday present, gifted a few years ago by my grandfather.
Considering the reason I was here, it was only right to carry a token of him. I switched from worrying my hem to running the necklace charm back and forth at my throat.
There was nothing to do but wait.
Minutes passed, but no one came for me. Outside, an engine rumbled, so I peeked from the tall window, but a large air-conditioning unit blocked my view of the street door below. Instead, I took in the close-together buildings and the sparkling city beyond the far end of the dark alley, a rainbow of neon for different night-time offers. Opposite, there was a business of some sort, and though it appeared to be closed, its purple light cast a glow into my room, enough to create a shadow when I turned to pace away.
Unable to settle, I examined a broken dresser then the surprisingly clean bedding on the bed. I shuddered to think what secrets that mattress knew. What other poor women had been in my shoes, perhaps unwillingly.
Time ticked on. My heart rate didn’t slow.
I was all but ready to despair when a whine of metal caught my attention. Except it came from outside. I faced the sound and jumped.
There was a dark figure outside my window.
A man. Perched on the air-conditioning unit, he squinted through the glass then waved to summon me and pointed at the catch.
What. The. Hell?
Warily, I crossed the room until I could see him better. He was a little older than me, maybe late twenties, with scruffy dark hair and a long-sleeved black t-shirt with no jacket, despite the cool evening. Across his lower face was a black bandanna with the print of the jaw of a skull.
For a strange moment, I was transported back to a childhood fantasy of Peter Pan. More specifically, of the lost boys turning up at my window to take me away. I’d found the idea compelling.
The lost boy in question ran his gaze over me then tugged down his bandanna to reveal a grin. “Let me in?”
“No,” I mouthed.
I was freaking undercover, in a manner of speaking. Whatever he was up to was not going to help my plan.
The metal unit under him crunched, a bracket coming away from the brick, and the stranger jerked, his arms flying out for balance.
Involuntarily, I took a step closer.
He splayed a hand on the glass. “Seriously, help or I’m going to fall.”
“Why are you even climbing up here?” I hissed.
