Page 30 of Queen of Madness

When she passes by, her focus, as does mine, remains straight ahead. But then the faintest scent of lemon wafts over me, chipping at my resolve. I squeeze my fist, attempting to rein in the suddenly loose leash I have on my thoughts. It’s like an itch I wasn’t aware I had, and now that I’ve accidentally rubbed against it, the need to scratch it is becoming overwhelming.

And here I was thinking the other thing I needed to worry about was not getting caught being a rat.

When we all shuffle outdoors, Trick instructs me to ride in the front of the limo with the driver, while the others follow behind in a separate vehicle. Onyx and her right hand, Shi, sit in the back of the cab with the dark privacy glass raised.

For a moment, I consider making small talk with the older gentleman driving, maybe get to know more about the people in the estate, but somehow I get lost in my thoughts the entire thirty-minute ride. With being less caught up in the safety of my sister and mother, my mind has less to keep it busy. Less to deter it from the very real threat sitting only a few feet behind me.

And far less to keep it from succumbing to something I work so fucking hard at keeping in check.

The limo slows to a stop in front of a tall building. It’s nothing but high panes of glass, metal beams, and reflective chrome.

“Don’t get out, Zek.” Trick’s voice takes me by surprise as the sound vibrates against my ear, tickling the small hairs. I see the driver smirk before getting out as Trick continues. “Should anyone be watching, we don’t want to make it known quite yet that you’re the Boss’s new guy. The driver is going to let the girls out, then pull into the garage. You’ll enter through the side access door and travel to the tenth floor just under the restaurant. Keep guard there and should anyone get through, open the door and let me know. Don’t react. We like to keep people alive so we can gather any information they might have.”

I nod even though I know he can’t see me and stay put, leaning back into the cool leather. The clouds still loom overhead but have yet to spill any rain thus far. Surprising, considering how dark they are.

“Interested in the weather?” the driver asks, reentering the limo.

“Just surprised it hasn’t poured yet.”

The driver peers through the window, his small smile causing the skin near his eyes to wrinkle. “Miss Embros loves the rain.”

“Oh yeah?”

He nods, pulling away from the entrance and around to a garage on the side of the building. “You’d be surprised by how dark a sunny day can be.”

My brows furrow, but the man doesn’t add anything else as he parks and lets me out.

The mystery surrounding Onyx only grows thicker with the more people I encounter. It makes me curious as to how many layers I’ll get to peel and look under before I leave.

If I leave.

The thought embeds in my conscious thoughts, reminding me that while I can hope everything works out, odds are, they won’t.

Just as Trick described, an access door rests at the back, next to the kitchen exit where they come to dump the trash. An estate guard is already standing in front and pays me little mind when I walk through the door and begin the long trek up the flights of stairs.

By the time I reach the top, a healthy burn radiates down my quads, my lungs tight as I take in full breaths. There’s an itch at the back of my throat I can’t seem to clear, and for the dozenth time, my eyes skirt down the stairwell. Similar to the storm outside, waiting for the right moment to crash to the surface below, something feels... heavy.

“The guy seems like a fucking tool.” Trick’s voice comes through the small earpiece, but this time I’m better prepared and don’t jolt at the invading sound. “He’s got a woman next to him that looks like she wants to blink twice for help, and his suit isn’t even tailored. Worse, he looks grungy.”

Grungy?

I huff to myself, thinking of the last time I heard that word. It’d been Fi’s latest boyfriend. He was a band guy, playing out of his aunt’s garage, and had a thing for astrology. Nice guy, but he was too free-spirited for my sister. He’d let her commit her random acts of kindness and not think twice about cleaning up the mess she made.

There was one time—

The faintest click of a door shutting turns every sense I have off within an instant. My eyes squeeze shut, listening for the telltale signs that whoever just opened a door ten floors down is sneaking.

You see, when someone isn’t afraid of being loud, it means they don’t mind being caught. This usually translates to them being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but with no ill intentions.

But someone who is quiet, measuring their every step, and prolonging the time between any noises they make, is in the right place for their intended purposes.

One, two, three. A step. Faint, but heavy. A man.

I contemplate telling Trick, but the access hall is quiet. Any move I make will alert them to my presence.

He’s good. Two minutes without a sound and he’s up two flights. A small squeak echoes up, not much louder than the sound of a pen dropping in the room next door. But it’s loud enough to give him pause.

On my way up, I too, check the floors. On the sixth, there are three simultaneously warped boards that will need to be hopped over. The eighth has a loose banister. And right beneath me, the last few steps are new replacements, made of a different nonslip material that adds friction to your steps. If he’s heavy enough, I’ll hear his shoes scratch the surface and get the upper hand, landing on him as soon as he rounds the top corner.

---