Page 382 of Hell Hath No Fury
It occurred to me that I was desperate to see the face of the only friend I had left. How strange it was to know what lay beneath her skin, the goodness of her spirit and the sweet, funny way she acted with me, but not know the color of her eyes and the taste of her true name in my mouth.
I ached for it all.
Suddenly, nothing less than everything was enough.
I descended the stairs slowly, and though she didn’t stop her task, I could tell by the tension in her shoulders that she knew I was there.
The cameras in the room, dozens of them tracking the girl in the glass cage from every angle, were dull, their red lights off because I’d killed the circuit just as I’d killed the elaborate alarm system. All that remained locking her inside was a glass door bared with a huge metal lock. It made sense they wouldn’t just trust technology to hold her captive when she was a master hacker.
I wanted to address her, to force her to show her face, but something held me back. I wanted to face herfree.
So, I bent to the lock and examined the mechanism. There was nothing laying around to use to pick the lock, a skill I’d learned growing up in my rough neighborhood. Instead, I pulled the lock down, putting tension on the loop of metal and used the butt of Aaron’s gun to hammer at the side joint of the lock. The noise echoed through the basement, but the sound was nothing compared to the metallic rattle of gunshots pinging up the stairs.
I hoped Aaron was okay.
If he wasn’t, I’d be faced with a number of Chinese gangsters far better equipped with guns than I was.
I cursed and rammed the gun harder against the lock, sweat beading on my brow.
Almost a minute later, the lock suddenly gave under the tension and popped open. When I looked up with a triumphant smile, there she was.
Standing on the other side of the glass door staring straight at me.
Long white hair and huge eyes so dark they looked black under delicately winged black brows. A narrow nose, a slightly pointed chin and a small mouth that was almost purplish pink.
Beautiful.
Otherworldly like an avatar in a videogame.
I opened my mouth, but I had no words, only an overwhelming sense of awe as I stared at the woman who was both a stranger and my dearest friend.
“You came,” she whispered, and her voice was hoarse and low, not high and lilting like her ethereal appearance seemed to call for.
“You needed me,” I whispered back. “You played me, but I would have come anyway.”
Her carefully blank expression tightened briefly. “You can understand why I’d have trouble believing that.”
I gazed at the elaborate cage and nodded. “Seeing is believing, I guess. Isn’t that why we work so hard to hide our identities? It’s safer to be unknown.”
“I know you,” she said somberly.
“Now,” I agreed.
“No, I’ve known you a long time.” She titled her head to the computer screens. When I followed her gaze, I saw shaky camera footage affixed to the body of someone walking down the street.
Only it wasn’t just any street.
It wasmine.
“They have to wear a bodycam,” she told me casually. “Holds them accountable. The cartel doesn’t like unknowns.”
So, it was the cartel who’d killed her.
My heart spasmed as I watched the murderer reach my old front door, working it open quickly with a set of picks. The sight of my mum kneeling by the tree adjusting presents took my breath away. She was smiling as she turned to face the intruder and the expression had only just started to slip when the murderer lunged forward and slammed a meaty fist into her temple. She crumpled to the ground. I almost vomited when I saw the gun with a silencer come into view of the body cam and drill three rounds into her torso.
“She was working with a RCMP agent to turn in Murphy and his operation,” Swan explained softly as she bent to pick up a bag I hadn’t noticed at her feet. “She was excited about turning them in. Justice, she said.”
“How do you know this?” I croaked.
