Page 69 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

This unnerved him more than anything I could have screamed. He glanced at the man standing silently near the door—one ofthe ones who’d come with him. “We’re done here, let’s go. We’ll move her to the site.”

That one word chilled me more than anything because I'd seen what he got up to at his 'sites.'

“We’ll control the environment,” Maddox added. “Wouldn’t want anyone stumbling onto something before we can craft the proper narrative.”

The man at the door nodded and pulled something from inside his jacket. “Try to scream,” he warned me coldly, “and we’ll kill your cousin. Sasha, right?”

My stomach twisted, but I just looked at him with the same expression as before. “That won’t be necessary, I won’t scream.” I gave Maddox a thin smile. “And just so we’re clear—you’re not in a movie either, so let’s skip the theatrics and get on with it.”

He didn’t like that which made me feel better, even if it might be the last bit of control I had.

The SUV rocked gentlyas it veered off the main road, its tires crunching over loose gravel while tree branches scraped along the sides. Wherever we were going, it was close now—I could feel it in the narrowing path and the shift in the driver’s posture. My stomach twisted with unease, but I forced myself to stay calm, keeping my expression neutral and my hands resting lightly on my thighs as if this were nothing more than another routine business trip.

Maddox hadn’t spoken a single word since we left the hotel. He sat in the front passenger seat, silently tapping away on his phone with the calm precision of someone orchestrating the cleanup of a mess no one even knew existed yet. Behind me, one of his men kept his hand hovering a little too close to his weapon. At the same time, the other had chosen the seat right next to mine—which, FYI, was far too close for comfort, especially as it seemed he'd eaten a whole bulb of garlic for breakfast—as if he were waiting for me to flinch just so he could enjoy it.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction. I also didn't tell him the weapon was unnecessary, given that his breath could do me in if he breathed straight on me.

Instead, I let my mind drift for a moment, just long enough to push past the tension crackling in the car and think about something—anything—else. I found myself hoping, somewhat absurdly, that the raccoons were doing okay.

It was ridiculous, I know that. But the image of that little possum waddling out of the bush to save me, the raccoons swarming that guy for a can of rotten fish—it made me feel… less alone. Like maybe, if I didn’t make it out of this, someone would remember me as the woman who accidentally recruited swamp wildlife into a tactical unit. And that wasn't nothing.

We came to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned construction site—the steel bones of a building left to rot in the middle of nowhere. A future office park, maybe. Or some vanity project that had died with the last financial scandal. Whatever this place was, one thing was clear—it was remote and deliberately isolated. There were no security cameras, no curious neighbors peeking through blinds, no one within earshot. Just silence and space, the kind of place chosen when someone didn’t want to be seen or stopped.

In essence, it was the perfect place for a body to go missing—sadly for me.

They marched me inside, down a hall of skeletal walls and hollow echoes, into a small side room that might’ve been an office once. Now, it was just bare concrete, rusted rebar, and dust.

A single chair waited in the center of the room, positioned with such quiet intent that it felt like it had been placed there just for me. I didn’t wait for instructions or look for permission. Instead, I stepped inside, crossed the space without hesitation, and lowered myself into the seat as if I’d known all along that this moment was inevitable.

Maddox stood in the doorway, arms crossed, face calm. “You’ll stay here,” he said, “until we’re ready to handle the rest.”

“Great,” I drawled. “Hope the room service is prompt.”

He didn’t react, didn’t speak—just gave a silent nod to the others, then turned and walked out without a backward glance. The door creaked shut behind him, the sound dragging out like a warning, and a moment later, the lock slid into place with a cold, final clunk that echoed through the room.

The moment I was alone, I moved. I slipped off my jacket and dropped to my knees, reaching into the lining of my boot. My fingers closed around the small plastic casing of the small tracking device I’d picked up from the electronics store.

Before I left the hotel, I’d deliberately torn the packaging open and left it on the floor, just peeking out from under the bed. It was something that someone might overlook if they were in a rush, but someone like Webb and his friends would spot it. And if they did, they’d know exactly what to do.

I tucked the tracker beneath the chair, wedging it into the curve where one of the legs met the bolt. It was small enough not to notice but close enough to me that any signal it gave off would tell them where I was—or where my body ended up.

If they find the room at the hotel and everything I left there, they’ll find this.

I rose slowly to my feet, brushing the dust from my hands as I took in the empty room around me. The air was cold, heavy, and damp, and the walls wept with moisture and mildew, but the silence didn’t unsettle me. I wasn’t afraid because I’d already made my peace with whatever was coming.

All that remained was to wait and hold the line. I would do it for Webb, for everyone who had ever counted on me, and maybe—hopefully—for the raccoons, too. Outside the door, the lock scraped again, the sound slicing through the silence like a warning.

I stayed seated, not even bothering to lift my head, as the heavy thud of boots echoed across the concrete floor. The door creaked open, and in stepped the larger of Maddox’s men—the one built like he could lift a truck without breaking a sweat. His expression was carved into something between cold amusement and quiet anticipation, the kind of look that said he was already looking forward to whatever came next. He held something in his hand, and even before he spoke, I knew exactly what it was.

“Cute little stunt.” He stepped just inside the room, holding up the torn packaging as if it were a prize. “You left this on the bed. Thought you were clever, huh?”

My pulse ticked a little faster, but I kept my face still.

He dropped the cardboard onto the floor with a flick of his fingers and moved closer, boots scuffing the dusty concrete. “Nobody’s coming, sweetheart. You think someone’s watching out for you, but they’re not. You should’ve minded your own business.”

He waited, expecting a reaction, but I gave him nothing. Eventually, he turned and walked out, and the door slammed shut behind him. The lock clicked back into place, and I was alone again.

I let out a slow breath through my nose, shaking it off. Well, just a little. There was no way anyone could go through what I was without worrying about crapping their pants, and I was no different.

---