Page 4 of The Truth Between

Nightfall had never felt more fitting than it did right now. After all, what I was about to do should only be committed under the guise of darkness. My car, parked in this quiet neighborhood, was hidden in the shadows, away from the full moon that decided to make its appearance tonight. Thankfully for me, the skies were somewhat cloudy, helping to cover the bright light that the moon was trying to bless me with.

It would be daylight soon, and I needed to get this done as quickly as possible.

My gaze was fixated on the home across the street from where I was parked.

I clenched my fists as my nails bit into my palms. I’d been waiting for the opportunity to make my move. I wanted to get this over and done with so I could move on to my next target.

For what I had planned, most people would feel fear or remorse, but none of those thoughts had entered my mind. This needed to get done, and it would get done, but my impatience was beginning to show its ugly head.

My patience was usually a strength of mine.

For years, I had built my reputation of succeeding in any challenge set before me by always taking the time and making sure everything was properly thought through. I never took shortcuts or cut corners; I did things the way they needed to be done in all avenues of my life.

But then I ran into Iris and my world imploded. All of that changed. Suddenly, waiting felt like an eternity. Waiting until I could hold and touch her had been my kryptonite, and it seemingly bled into other areas of my life. My frustration grew each day as I watched those around me move on while I still waited for something that felt so far away.

The home I was watching seemed to mock me, its darkened windows showcasing that no one was awake yet. All it was doing was reminding me that I couldn’t make my move yet because it wasn’t the right time.

Not yet at least.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the tension that was vibrating through my body. It wasn’t a nervous energy because there was no need to be. My plan was foolproof and while there was always a chance that something could go wrong, I knew that this wouldn’t. I would prevail in the end, one way or another.

To my utter frustration, my thoughts drifted back to Iris, trapped in the basement of my home. Locking her down there had been a blessing and a curse. There was no more of me wondering what she was doing or who she was with because I knew exactly where she was at all times.

But now that she was under lock and key, I could feel an even bigger storm brewing. What she’d been up to, trying to find out more about the Chevaliers, was the biggest mistake she could have ever made. Allowing history to remain buried would have been beneficial to her. Now, it was up to Parker Townsend and whoever else he decided to bring into the fold to decide what her fate would be.

There was nothing I could do to save her. Hell, the better question was if I even wanted to save her.

I shook my head, trying to snap out of it. This wasn’t the time for distractions. I had a job to do, and this would need all my focus. I reached for the bag on the passenger seat and checked its contents for the hundredth time. Nothing was missing and I had everything I needed.

I took one last look at the house, and that’s when I saw it. A small light in the living room. Someone was awake.

About fucking time, but I waited to make my move.

I checked the time on my dashboard and saw that he was a little later than normal. I swallowed that irritation and focused on what was about to happen. It would be easy to break into his house and kill him now, but I decided to switch things up a bit.

Instead, I waited for Derrick Wilson to step out of his house to go for his very early morning jog. While I waited, I put my gloves on and grabbed some of the tools that I would need to avoid having to bring a bag with me. The last thing I needed was to be weighed down by anything.

After I was done, I watched as the front door of Derrick’s house opened. Stepping out was a man in his late forties, fit and trim, wearing a pair of running shorts with leggings underneath and a T-shirt. He had a water bottle in his right hand and a set of keys in his left. Once he locked the front door, he jogged down the driveway, passing within a few feet of my car. I held my breath as I watched him jog past, then waited a few more seconds before getting out of my car.

I followed him away from his house and into a more secluded area, keeping a safe distance between us. All of this looked familiar to me because I’d taken the time to study his routine before making my move. It was obvious that his having a routine that he didn’t change up at all was an important part of his life, but it would also lead to his downfall. My heart was slamming in my chest as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. The thrill of a kill was returning even if I hadn’t committed the act yet.

Derrick slowed down to a walk and seemed to be in his own little world. It would have been nice for him to make me work for what I was about to do by chasing after him, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

When Derrick slowed to take a sip of his water, I knew this was my chance. Plus, I had the element of surprise on my side.

I ran up behind him, grabbed him by the neck, and pulled him into a choke hold.

“Rumor has it that you’re a little fucking spy,” I said in his ear as he continued to fight me. “Trying to have a role in taking down the Chevaliers, are we?”

When I said the name of the organization that had changed my life, he froze for a split second before his movements became even more erratic.

“No, please no,” Derrick’s strained voice made me smile as he continued to struggle.

I tightened my grip, and he stopped fighting me.

“Good,” I said. “Now I have a few questions to ask you and I want the truth, no matter how much it fucking hurts,” I said as I pushed him to the ground. I made sure to tie his wrists behind his back with a zip tie before I turned him over onto his back.

“Okay, yes, fine. Please don’t kill me,” he said, taking in deep breaths.

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