Page 88 of Terror Tuesday
It tickles when I lean close enough for her lashes to brush the edge of my mask. Dropping my voice, I whisper, “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. Soon, you’ll realize it and hate yourself for waiting this long.”
With a sigh, she relaxes in my hold, giving herself up to me. Her expression is sad when she finally gazes into my face. “You broke my heart. You broke his.”
I clench my jaw. Because I know exactly what I broke—and why I did it anyway.
“Maybe. But I’m still going to give you justice.” As I take a step back, I release her arms and place the hilt of her blade into her palm. “Focus, Monarch. You’ve got work to do.”
She looks at the weapon and slowly nods. “He’s coming, isn’t he?”
With a crooked finger under her chin, I lift it. “Yes. He is.”
Green eyes meet mine—unwavering now. No fear. Just grit. “And you’ll be…?”
“Watching. Like always.” I point toward the top of the building. “I’ll back you up if you need me, but this is all for you.”
She blinks back a tear, tongue flicking across her lower lip. Then she exhales and crouches beside the dumpster, steadying herself.
A crack of thunder roars through the sky until we both jump. I head up the ladder. It’s probably not safe for me to be on this metal fire escape. But it’s the best view for observing everything below.
She looks terrified when she finds my position.
With a nod, I encourage her. She’s compliant. This time, to my word alone. And I’ll take that, for now.
Until she needs to betray me.
The tension in her shoulders relaxes as she pulls on a mask like mine, then presses her back against the brick wall.
Sheila leads Representative Blackwell from the restaurant down the alley, walking him to his car for payment. My only concern is, will he stop to hit her? Hurt her in some way?
His steps creep closer to the midway point as Sheila giggles at something he said, the sound bouncing off the walls in haunting waves. Olivia’s body tenses, her knife held firm. She’s ready.
Unease strikes me when another woman stumbles forward from the street. This one is bleach blonde and clearly drunk. “Wait for me!”
My breath catches.
This isn’t part of the script.
The second woman trips over a crack in the asphalt, losing a high heel. Sheila tugs on Reggie’s arm, but he turns to wait for the blonde, who’s gathering up her shoe. “Wait! I’m coming.”
Olivia glances up at me with her palms out wide, asking what to do.
And as I lift my head to the sky to think about a quick answer, I freeze.
A caped figure perches on the roof of the building opposite me. And he’s holding something in his hand. The black mantle and hood he wears cover his face, but I can tell…
He’s staring right at me.
Friend or foe?
As the intoxicated woman laughs like a siren, the voices below startle me back to reality. Olivia is still at a loss, but I can only shrug in answer.
Reggie moves closer to her location just as the cloaked figure drops something, perhaps a stone, right over Olivia, causing a splash around her.
Fuck!
Reggie whips his head to the other side of the dumpster and takes a step toward my queen. I’m already climbing down the ladder as quietly as I can, my movements concealed by thunder.
“Oh! I left my phone in our seat… We need to go back!” Sheila tugs on Reggie’s arm in a retreat to the restaurant and latches onto the woman struggling to keep up. The three march toward the street and away from us.
