Page 58 of Knight

An expression crosses his face—frustration, irritation, regret?—it’s gone before I can identify it.

“We’ll deal with that later. Right now, we need to go. Stay close to me and do exactly what I tell you.”

I shouldn’t trust him. There’s no reason for why I feel safer knowing he has contingency plans. I definitely shouldn’t be noticing the way he moves, or how his hands look holding the tablet, or the intensity in his eyes when he’s focused on a problem.

But as he leads me toward the door, his body angled almost as though he’s protecting mine, I know it’s far too late for ‘shoulds.’I’m already potentially trusting him with my life.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Knight

Scanningthe motel parking lot through a gap in the curtains, I catalog each vehicle in my head until I find what I’m looking for—a dark blue Honda Civic, early 90s model. Old enough to start without electronic interference, and common enough to blend in. The owner is probably still asleep, and won’t notice it’s missing for hours. By which point, we’ll be far away.

“Ready?” I check my gun, then the tablet and flash drive—everything that matters to me right now packed into one small bag.

Glitch nods, but her fingers keep twisting in the hem of her shirt. The bruises on her wrists, above the bandages, stand out against her skin, a constant reminder of how this mess started … and how quickly everything changed.

“Stay close to me.” I ease the door open, checking sight lines. “Move casually, like we belong here.”

The morning sun hasn’t burned off the fog yet, giving us better cover than I could have hoped for. We cross the parking lot, my hand hovering near her back, not quite touching. Every vehicle we pass could hide someone watching. Every window could conceal a camera.

The Civic’s driver’s side lock gives way easily. They don’t make them like this anymore, sadly. Glitch keeps watch while I work, her tension obvious in her stiff stance, and the way her fingers keep flexing. The door opens with a click that sounds way too loud in the quiet lot.

“Get in.” I slide behind the wheel, pulling tools from my pocket. The steering column comes apart with practiced ease. Muscle memory guides my hands—strip these wires, touch those ones together. The engine catches on the second try.

Beside me, Glitch fastens her seatbelt with shaking hands. “Have you done this before?”

“No, I learned it on YouTube this morning.” I ease the car into drive. “Obviously, I’ve done this before. Try to look less nervous.”

We pull onto the street, keeping to the speed limit, ensuring there’s no reason to draw any attention to us. I keep checking the mirrors, watching for anyone paying too much attention to a boring Honda being driven by boring people.

“Where are we going?” She keeps her voice low, like someone might hear us through the closed windows, and above the sound of the engine.

“Somewhere safer.” I take the next right, following a route that will tell me if we’re being followed. “I need to make sure we’re clean first.”

“Clean?”

“Not being followed.”

“Oh …”

The city goes by outside the windows in a blur of morning traffic and sleepy pedestrians. None of them know that they’re sharing the road with fugitives.

After thirty minutes of driving around, and wasting gas, I’m confident we’re not being tracked, which means it’s time to head toward the next safehouse. The property has been mine foryears, bought through shell companies and kept off any digital record. That’s a lesson I didn’t need Victor to teach me. It comes courtesy of my parentsandmy brothers.

Always have backup plans for your backup plans, and places to lay low that don’t have your name attached to them.

The industrial district gives way to abandoned warehouses, then to scrubland. It’s the perfect place to ditch the car. I don’t want to leave it too close to where we’re going, but I also don’t want to make Glitch walk too far. Pulling into an overgrown lot behind a semi-collapsed building, I kill the engine.

“Why are we stopping?”

“Thought I’d dump your body here.”

Her eyes jump to me.

“Can’t risk the car being found near where we’re going.” I grab the bag. “We have to walk from here.”

She looks at the rough terrain ahead, then down at sneakers that have clearly seen better days. “How far?”

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